


Music to My Ears

by theunbloggable



Series: Playing Our Heartstrings [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on a Tumblr Post, Blanket Permission, Friends to Lovers, Hitch and Isaac are up to no good, Isaac as Marco's Brother, M/M, POV Jean Kirstein, Slow Burn, Teacher Marco Bott, they no homo'd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:11:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 67,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunbloggable/pseuds/theunbloggable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the Pencil-Only Jeanmarco AU:  Marco is a high school music/theater teacher fresh out of college and Jean, who is the brother of one of his students, ends up getting dragged to parent teacher conferences. So when Marco finishes explaining his class he asks if they have any questions, Jean blurts out, “Are you single?” Marco blushes like crazy and Jean’s sister, Hitch, looks like she is done with the world.</p><p>Jean's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Latch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PencilOnly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PencilOnly/gifts).



> Written For, Beta’d, and Inspired by Pencil-Only  
> Who Ruined My Life With Jeanmarco 
> 
> This is written both from the deep parts of my mind where words manifest and from the much more fun and exciting RPs I have with Pencil-Only so enjoy.

November 3rd

“Jean! JEAN!” I hear my voice being called as I walk closer to my front door. It’s eight in the morning who the fuck could want anything from me? The knocks grow more sporadic- it’s Hitch. Goddammit, this is why you aren’t supposed to move back to your childhood neighborhood when you grow up.

“JEEEEEannnnnn” Hitch whines scratching on the door with her nails.

“What?” she looks stunned when I open the door suddenly and all but stumbles inside.

“Wow...you should really get to unpacking bro.” I roll my eyes at her. She is such a brat.

“I just moved in _sis_ ” I say, mocking her tone and kick the door shut before bending over to pick a box up that was admittedly blocking the hallway.

“It’s been two weeks. Get your life together.” She says, sitting on the arm of the couch and obnoxiously moving around to make it painfully obvious that its still wrapped in the plastic that it came in.

“Hey you don’t know what it’s like to fucking move all your shit across the country” I say bitterly. Hitch blanches but tosses her hair and lets herself fall back onto the couch- the plastic crunching under the new weight, “Anyway what are you doing here- it’s a Tuesday”

“So...” she says looking at me like I’m dumb. This is why I don’t want kids.

“So you have school and I don’t want mom and dad yelling at me because you hide out here when you're suppose to be getting educated or whatever bullshit is going on at high school” I say. I let her skip two times last week and we sat on the couch and ate pizza all day but apparently that isn’t ‘responsible’ or ‘adult’ behavior.

“Oh yeah... so mom and dad have this thing and you need to go to my parent teacher conference with me” she says.

"Really? A thing" I ask incredulously. She's lying and its fucking easy to tell because she's lies like I do.

"Mhmmm" she hums. I stare at her trying to convey that I don't appreciate that she thinks I'm dumb. "Fine!  Mom and dad may or may not know that I have PTA meeting but they don't need too!" She says; worry building in her voice as she rolled over burrowing her face in the plastic-y crevices of the couch.

"What did you do?" I ask because she's hiding her face.

"Nothing! I- you know how dad is okay." She says quietly, pulling her face off the couch.

“I’ll go” I say because I’m a sucker for my little sister. Hitch sits up and grins and lets out a high pitched noise of happiness.

“Thanks! I love you so, so much” she squeals, flinging herself to her feet and enveloping me in a hug. “I’m going to go to school now but I’ll see you at 4:30” she adds.

“Have a good day at school Hitch” I say mockingly ready to go back to bed.

“Bye” she says as she walks to the front door. “Oh, Jean you should probably not answer the door in your tighty whities” she adds laughing and then running out the door.

♬

Pulling up to the school building was like getting punched in the face multiple times because nothing is worse than returning to high school. Trost High School wasn’t a bad place at all- the teachers were normal, the classes were fine but the fucking people I went to school with were mediocre as fuck and I had a certain level of sympathy for Hitch because she has, over and over again, told me how dumb everyone she went to school with was.

The halls were exactly the same as they were five- almost six years after I had graduated- which was unfortunate.

“Sir, do you need help- Jean Kirschstein!” A voice says turning from clinical to welcoming in the moment it took for recognition to set in. It was Mrs. -  _fuck why can’t I remember her name?_

“Jean sweetie! It’s so nice to see you, you look so handsome and old- gosh I must look ancient then” She laughs, I imagine I must be _hilarious_ to look at, standing frozen in the hallway trying for the life of me to remember what this woman's name is. “Well, I imagine you’re here for Hitch, she’ll be down the hall with Mr. Bodt” she thankfully adds, waving me down the hallway.

I edge past the administrative offices and go to the door that she told me to go to- room 104- the main music classroom. Its set up different however, the old music teacher use to have us sit in lines, strict and organized- music was probably the worst part of the day when I was going to high school. But the room was different now, it looked much more welcoming. However the change of the room was hardly the focal point it was the man who sat at the desk by the front of it. He was fucking drop dead gorgeous sitting in a red dress shirt with a tie and _fucking converses_ \- was he the teacher? Because suddenly I found myself wanting to go back to school.

“Jean. You’re late” Hitch says, interrupting my ogling of her teacher. I rip my gaze away from him to look at Hitch.

“It’s” I look down at my watch, “4:32” I says, giving an eye roll for good measure.

“Exactly” She says making a face at me; I can hear the insolence dripping off of her voice. 

I ignore her at this point and walk fully into the room and over to the teacher- Mr. Bodt- or whatever, who seems to be amused by our sibling banter.

“H-Hi “I stutter… hi, hey, hello? I didn’t really know what to say that captured the whole _I’m a responsible adult but I’m not a parent_ vibe.

He doesn’t seem to notice or at least he doesn't comment on my fumble because he extends a hand to me - and holy fuck- he has so many freckles.

“You must be Jean, right?” He smiles at me, I nod which probably looks dumb and smile back at him. “I’m Marco Bodt, the music and theater professor-- teacher...” he adds. He seems to shake something off before continuing “Sorry-I’m so used to using professor rather than teacher since I just got out of college not too long ago and- Sorry- again, let’s just talk about Hitch” he motions for me to sit down.

I take one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that seem to plague every school because they are the perfect form of subtle torture. What I really want to tell Mr. Bodt- Marco is that I would spend all day letting him talk about himself but I feel Hitch dig her elbow into me telling me that I’m just sitting there awkwardly.

“So the parents couldn’t make it or something so tell me about the havoc that Hitch is reaping and I’ll report back nothing but the truth” This earns me another hit of Hitches elbow to my rib cage. I laugh softly because I never said I wouldn’t embarrass her when she asked me to come. But anything is better than our parents at one of these things- so she should be grateful.

Marco looks between us, “Well, it’s actually nothing bad.” he says, at which I let out a mock sigh of relief, throwing a side glance at Hitch who is rolling her eyes at me.

“The administration says these conferences are mandatory so parents can get an overview of how their kids are doing. I think Hitch is doing very well- I enjoy having her in my class.” He says looking down at some of his papers. He smiles and adds, “She does make things more ‘interesting’ in class but she is actually demonstrating that everything she needs to learn is being absorbed.”

Thank fuck this teacher likes her and that Hitch has actually told me that music class wasn't complete bullshit. She needs someone in this school to actually like her and it be a mutual thing because she thinks everyone else at this school is “fake” or whatever she called it. I look over at Hitch again and she’s stone faced as ever when it comes to dealing with authority but there is a hint of a smile in her eyes, and she’s not saying anything snarky so that... that.

“I’m still learning too, but we’ll get into the swing of things.” Marco adds on and I connect the dots. He’s a new teacher. I’m still looking at Hitch who seems to realize that my brain started working because she smirked.

I try not to laugh “Is she in the first class of students you've had?” I ask.

Marco chuckles, which makes his face light up and only succeeds in making him look hotter, “Technically, yes. I mean I was a student teacher for a semester for practice but that doesn't really count.” he says, brushing a piece of hair off of his face.

“Jesus” I say before I can really stop myself. “That can’t be easy....sixteen year olds suck.” I look away from Marco to throw a glance at Hitch and make a face at her. She ignores me to instead play with the tips of her short hair. I turn my attention back to Marco, “Well, do you need to tell me anything else or anything I need to know. These conferences feel shirt when the teacher isn't ranting about how much of a dick you are-” I say, getting cut off by the snort that Hitch lets escape her. She smiles at me.

Marco laughs softly- more in his eyes than anything- and runs a hand through his hair which of course draws my eyes to his biceps and the way the fabric of his shirt stretches across his chest.

“...Do you have any questions?” he asks looking at me expectantly, I obviously only catch the tail end of his question but sure I have a lot of question I could ask him.

I look him up and down again and before I can stop myself I ask him, “Well, Are you single?” The room grows more silent but I resist the urge to throw myself out the nearest window because I’m a fucking idiot and just cock an eyebrow waiting for a response. Hitch’s response it to glare at me- I’m not looking at her but I can feel the fire in her eyes boring a hole into the side of my face. She is probably giving me one of her famous ‘death glares to end all death glares’ stares.

Marco however has turned bright red, blush invading his face and his eyes widening at an amusing rate. He seems to collect himself before says “Preferably questions about my class.” I laugh at this but before I can say anything there is a knock on the door and another family comes in. Marco looks visibly relieved. I put it out of my mind and look to Hitch who is already standing and ready to go.               

I smile because this has been fucking hilarious and if I didn’t get a date out of the experience at least Hitch will have had a healthy dose of embarrassment, “Well than Mr. Bodt. Here is my card if you know- ever have any concerns or problems with Hitch. It was enlightening to talk to you” I says, handing my card to Marco, which he pockets looking slightly petrified still.

“You ready?” I ask Hitch, slinging an arm around her shoulder and ruffling her hair.

“I was ready like 5 minutes ago you jackass” she says peeved.

“Come on grumps I’ll get you a milkshake” I says laughing at her. I knew the bribery would work though because the way to any Kirschstein’s  heart is through food.

“Fine.” she says letting me pull her out of the classroom and lead her to the care.

“So he’s hot” I say nonchalantly once we are in the car. Looking over at her while I buckle my seat belt.   

“Jeannn” Hitch whines. “He’s my teacher”

“But you have eyes” I tease. Before asking, “Oh come on, what's he like?”

“No!” Hitch says crossing her arms and kicking her feet up on the dashboard. I sigh and start the car, heading towards the Dairy Queen.

“Fine. He’s really nice and it’s sort of gross how much he cares about people” She says defeated, and making a face. “And I won’t hate you forever if you somehow manage to tap that or whatever adults do” she adds.

“Tap that? What the fuck does- whatever.” What the fuck is she talking about- why is she talking like this. Whatever.

“You are getting me so much more than a milkshake for this” Hitch says grinning like she’s won something.

“Fine” I don’t bother arguing, one because she sort of deserves whatever she wants from Dairy Queen and two, I really want a shit ton of food from Dairy Queen.

“....and I’m staying the night at your house” she adds

“Goddammit Hitch.” She’s evil. I throw a glance in her direction to glare at her but Hitch just smiles wide and turns up the radio humming along.


	2. Mess is Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean deals with the mess that is his life- sort of. Mostly he just eats mac&cheese and fails to realize that he's a great brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally got this done- I was ripped away from my baby (aka my laptop) because I went to PA for the weekend so I spent my weekend handwriting a lot of this chapter in my journal at night in the darkest fucking room ever. But anywayyyys yeah the posting schedule is going to be Mondays and Thursdays so I'll see ya'll on Christmas, or more importantly Levi's birthday. <3 theunbloggable

**-** hey horse face saw on fb that you moved back to hell-

I don’t even know what to say to getting a text message like that- no one has called me horse face in years and of course its fucking Connie. The bastard texts me for the first time in three years and throws my entire childhood back in my face. I kinda love him for it. So I text back.

-fuck you potato head. but yes. hell is cold this time of year-

It takes seven minutes for him to text back, all of which I spent scrolling through instagram and hating the people who I knew from college for posting pictures of the beach in cali. I welcome the chime of my phone, pulling me away from what Hitch calls insta-envy or whatever.

**-missed you lots -.- butttttttt (lol butt) dude I moved back yesterday. opening on a restaurant on main-**

Fuck. Thats fucking hilarious. Connie owning a restaurant, because man the dude taught me to make some bitch’n brownies but he only thing he’s ever cooked has had weed in it.

-lol dude thought the only thing you would be cooking is meth-

**-haha nawww its an all american diner. girlfriend is the co-owner-**

-now you are really fucking with me spud... girlfriend?!?”-

**-shut up hf. wanna catch up today... btw totally not fucking with you... i don't swing that way ;) -**

That fucker. I stare around at the pile of boxes surrounding me and even though I can feel the plastic of the still wrapped couch, I really don’t want to unpack. Hitch will probably stab me when she sees that I still haven't unpacked but I would rather smack my face against the granite counters in the kitchen then start to sort through my life.

-yup. now work?”

As I text I chose to give up on unpacking for the week. One more week and then I will finally accept that I moved back. Or just get really drunk and see where that leads me. Connie texts back an affirmative response along with the address to a building downtown on the tail end of mainstreet. I feel my self running a hand through my hair- I’m gonna have to dye this shit again and Hitch is going to make so much fun of me but fuck it. My phone chimes again reminding me that I have yet to respond to Connie's last text but apparently that faze him because its another text from him.

**-BRING BEER!-**

I laugh because Connie hasn’t changed and I crave something normal at this point because its been a few days since I’ve seen anyone that isn’t a family member or a client through a screen. The last person I saw was Marco and nothing about that was normal. I decide to reply to Connie before I can get trapped in my thoughts about Marco which is where I’ve been getting caught up in a lot lately.

-k. be there in 35 -

Clothes. I should change or rather put clothes on because despite the fact that its three in the afternoon I’m still only wearing boxer briefs. Its my house I can sit in my living room naked if I want to. What to wear really isn't a problem or a concern until the back of my mind nags at me screaming a what if I see Marco?!? I ignore the thought to instead walk into the master bathroom after I climb the carpeted stair to the upper level of the house- my house. Its weird being an adult.  Looking at myself in the mirror really only confirms that I really do need to dye my hair soon and it also reminds me that I need tp clean my nipple piercing. I grab the alcohol wipes, which might be the most exciting thing I have in my bathroom, and rotate the bar in my right nipple. I no longer wince at the pull of skin considering I have had it for several years, a long enough time that frequently forget I have it until I either look at myself naked or someone else looks at me naked.  

**-Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey!!!!!-**

My phone chimes and I expect another text from Connie but it’s Hitch texting in a crazy fashion as per usual. Fucking teenagers. Not that I can say that Connie texts much better. The chat bubble pops up again with the three little dots from hell telling me shes still typing so I walk out into the bedroom and grab a shirt and jeans from the dresser. The phone goes off again with another message from Hitch as I am pulling my other arm through the sleeve of my Henley.

**-Dinner? Tonight. with the parental units-**

Reasons I hate living in the town I grew up in, one would be that my parents are too close to me. I preemptively roll my eyes because the dinners is going to shitty but I text Hitch back because she shouldn’t have to do family dinners alone more than she has too.

-sure. be there at 8-

All Hitch sends me is a shit ton of hearts in and shit ton of colors and the lovely sentiment of love you jackass. I find myself rolling my eyes again because she is so much like me sometimes it hurts. I send her a heart back and head down stairs, grabbing my beanie, my cigarettes and a case of beer from the fridge before heading to my car. Its cold as balls outside which fucking sucks and another reason why I hate living where I grew up- I can’t expect anything other than cold, rainy, shitty weather. I toss the beer in the backseat not really caring that alcohol should really go in the trunk- but its not like I’m drinking and driving. I shove my beanie on my head and scoot into the drivers seat, lighting up a cigarette and rolling down the window before I pull out of the driveway because doing nothing all day when you are suppose to be doing stuff is stressful.  

♬

-Here-

I send the text to Connie, sitting in my car after I pull up the building matching the address he gave me earlier. I throw my smokes into the glove compartment and grab the beer from the backseat and I’m really fucking excited to drink with someone. Especially when its not just getting drunk at the bar to meet someone to fuck- because I don’t want to fuck anyone right now. I moved back here to support Hitch not hook up with half the town and piss people off. Marco- of course- crosses my mind because god, he’s fucking gorgeous. His hazel skin with freckles that run across his body for what I imagine to be miles- or his lips which were full and- jesus or his stupid hands which looked strong and matched his build. His goddamned eyes which seemed to hold his smile and that- that was fucking sexy as all hell. My phone ripped me away from my fantasy before I could spiral into how Marco would have to bow his head to kiss me, or how he could easily lift me, and hold me against him- It was Connie, who was responding to my text message instead of getting half hard on a cold street corner thinking about a guy he just met unlike I was.

**-Doors open-**

I have legitimate problems- not that I didn’t know that beforehand. Denial is probably worse than being straight up crazy. At least that's what I tell myself. thankfully before I got too deep into my inner psyche or whatever the fuck it is Connie sticks his head outside from the buildings front entry way, he grimaces at the sky which looks laden with thick gray clouds. Knowing Trost’s weather and just Washington State in general its probably rain rather than snow. Fucking perfect.

“Hey horse face you gonna stand out there all day?” he yells. Connie has gotten taller in the years I haven't seen him- a bit broader too- and retains the same amount of hair, which is none. He seems so normal, so Connie, which thinking about it is an oxymoron but whatever.

“Naw- I’m coming” I say as I move towards the building which has paper covering the windows and the restaurant sign covered, the hint of a laugh evident in my voice because Connie is sure to be a good time.

“Naw? Dont you mean _neigh_ ” Connie says making a face meant to antagonize me. He’s such a comedian...

“Oh Connie how I have missed you” I retort, letting sarcasm drip off my voice and some how managing to flip him off in between holding the case of beer and clutching my coat closed.

“I know you did... _babe_ ” Connie says, adding a fucking wink to the end of it. And man, I missed this- having friends. Not that I’m admitting that to Connie. Got to be emotionally mysterious- Jean Kirchstein; emotionally constipated.

Connie drops his shit because he can be serious and pulls me into a one armed hug after we walk into the restaurant. “Hey man” he says, a face cracking grin on his face.

The restaurant is- bright. Like seriously...fun. I guess. Its very Connie. There is chrome everywhere accented by orange and red booths and table tops. Its the pinnacle of an American diner- classic really.

I smile back at him because his smile is infectious, “Hey man” I say back before gesturing  around me “It looks great dude- but what’s with all the secrecy?” because I still didn’t understand why  the fuck it looked like a decrepit crack house from the outside with the windows boarded up.

“Grand reveals are fun!” Connie says clapping me on the back before moving to make a grand sweeping gesture, “speaking of which, the grand opening is next Wednesday and you better be here” he adds on.

Before I get the chance to say anything a tall brunette walks out from what I assume to be the kitchen and slides over the counter like its nothing. She’s wearing some sort of weird overall dress with a yellow long sleeve shirt under it. Her hair is pulled back and she is swinging an dishrag in her hand. She’s really pretty- that's literally all I can think of when she walks over and drapes her arms around Connie’s shoulders, hunching slightly to compensate for the fact that she has a few inches on him, to rest her head against his. She’s pretty and man Connie’s life seems so put together.

“You must be Jean?” she says, although she phrases it like a question, “or should I say horse face?” She adds on with a straight face. Connie bursts into college and I just stare at the motherfucker.

“That would be me” I say resigned because yup I get it, I have a long face. And apparently since I haven't been called that in  years we have to make up for that... tonight.

“Well I’m Sasha” she says, extending a hand over Connie's shoulder. I take her hand and damn, her smile is infectious too. “And I hope you like mac and cheese because we need a tester”

“Sounds good” I says because testing macaroni and cheese sounds like the best thing that's happened in a while.

Connie nods at me, “Good answer, Sash’s mac and cheese is the best” he says raising a hand to intertwine his hand with hers. They are really cute together.

“Sit down then boys” She says pressing a kiss to the side of Connie’s head and pointing to the counter before unravelling herself from Connie to head towards the kitchen.

“She’s nice man” I say to Connie when she disappears behind a set of doors.

“Perfect, like seriously perfect.” Connie sighs, sitting down at the counter. “What about you? Significant other?” he says casually.

“Nope” I say. “Free as a bird” I add, which feels like such a lie because I’m fucking chained to my thoughts about Marco- which is ridiculous because I just met him.

Connie hums in disbelief, “Sure Kirschstein” he says rolling his eyes.

“You’ll be the first to know” I say laughing at how pathetic I am.

“Of course I will, I’m your only friend” he retorts, punching me lightly in the shoulder.

“Says the guy who I haven’t talked to in years” I joke. Connie’s face falls a little bit at my joke.

“Sorry man. Life was just... life” he seems to be at a loss of words, which for Connie is unusual.

“Dude its fine, I have hands. I should have called you or some shit” I mutter because I suck at conversations like this. Sasha, thank fuck, walks in holding a tray with what may just be a thousand bowls of cheesy pasta.

“There are twelve kinds” She says, placing the trays in front of us and grabbing forks from behind the counter. ‘Bon appetite” she says and smiles nervously.

Holy fucking shit- this macaroni and cheese is the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I feel my jaw drop after I inhale about three of the twelve types of pasta. I bring my eyes up to meet hers.

“I think I’m in love” I deadpan.

Sasha bursts into laughter “Thank you Jean... although I’ll have you know that Connie made the pasta for all of these, I just do sauces”

“I didn’t know that you could actually cook. I thought you were just a stoner man” I say looking at Connie because shit he should have been making this when we were high as fuck in our senior year.

“Hey! I can do both” Connie says before Sasha smacks him with her dish towel. “I mean not that I would get high anymore” he adds trying to look serious.

“Not without me. Not when we have to run the business” Sasha says shaking her head in disapproval of her boyfriend.

Connie just smiles and her and I can’t help but feel happy around them. File under reasons I’m glad I moved back to Trost I guess. Four hours, nine types of macaroni and cheese, and four beers later I walk out the door of the restaurant hugging Sasha and Connie before I go.

The rain had begun, the steady drizzle coating Trost in a thin haze. I set off cross town walking with muscle memory rather than real thought to get to my parents house, preferring to walk in the rain than drive while tipsy. The rain sobers me up so I feel fairly normal by the time I arrive.

“Jean!” Hitch shouts from where she waits on the porch, smiling softly at me. I walk up to the porch and she gives me the worlds laziest hug where she basically just leans against me and murmurs “Thank fuck you are here”

“Don’t curse” I respond automatically. She huffs at me but I ruffle her hair, scratching my nails against her scalp. “1-10?” I ask her, wanting to be prepared for how bad our parents are acting on this particular day.

She rolls her eyes “solid eight.”

I take my hand away from her head and walk inside “Mom? Dad?” I call out.

“How many times have I told you not to yell in the house” My mother says, turning the corner from the kitchen with a martini in her hand. Of course. Of course its been all of two seconds and I’m already in trouble.

“Sorry” I mutter. I feel Hitch squeeze my arm from behind me. I know better than to fight with my mom- especially when she’s busting out the martinis.

“God we send you away for a few years and you are so uncivilized” her words slurred slightly and she walks back into the kitchen, giving us a look like we are expected to follow.

“Yup mom. College does that to you” I say under my breath. I don’t think I’ve ever talked at a normal level around my parents.

“I can’t wait to go to college” Hitch says, not quite grasping the concept of not saying things that she knows will antagonize our parents to avoid conflict.

Fortunately my dad saves us- which is something that rarely happens because before mom can respond to Hitch’s comment my dads voice sounds from the dining room.

“Are we going to eat in this lifetime?” he calls out sounding agitated.

“We’ll eat when dinner's done!” My mom says, slamming her drink down on the counter, turning her head in irritation to the direction of the dining room.

“Well with you cooking it was probably done five minutes ago.” My dad retorts in the passive aggressive tone that coated my entire childhood. Just- Fuck this.

“Hitch is going to stay over at my place tonight, okay mom” I state, not asking permission. She knocks her glass into the sink, the crack of glass against metal ringing in the relatively quiet kitchen.

“Fine. Whatever.” She says uncaring. “It’s not like shes helpful here” her words are starting to run together and I glance at Hitch who’s chewing on her bottom lip. Why didn’t Hitch text me and tell me that mom’s drinking had gotten this bad again. She was on the right track to being six months sober when I left.

“She’s a kid mom” I say quietly trying not to get upset because there’s no point with arguing with her.

“Yeah like being a kid has ever been a fucking excuse” My dad say, apparently deciding he needs to join the conversation. “You thought you were a hotshot when you were sixteen even though you were a little shit” he says looking past mom to glare at me.

“Okay we are going now” I say because I can’t stand them. I grab Hitches hand and she looks destroyed. I don’t let him say anything back to me, I just turn and walk to the door, pulling Hitch along with me. “Great dinner guys” irritation and anger coat my voice because it took all of fifteen minutes for a ‘family’ dinner to fall apart.

♬

“I’m sorry” I’m holding back tears at this point because Hitch is walking beside me looking broken. My words get her attention, we’ve been walking for about twenty minutes in the rain in silence.

“Its expected” she says, pushing a hand through her damp hair. I sling an arm around her shoulder because I need her to know I’m here for her.

“I’m sorry I left you with that. I should have known.” I think back to how they acted when I was a teenager and I fucking feel destroyed because I knew and I still left.

“I should have told you” she says immediately before taking a shaky breath. “Can I stay with you for a little bit?”

“Of course” Because I’m not leaving her ever again even if I am emotionally constipated and the worst brother in the world.

 


	3. Something Like Cosmic Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean covers himself in pasta, makes things awkward, eats more pasta and is pretty Jean like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people! Merry Christmas if that's your thing!  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter- Pencilonly was the only thing that got me through writing this at like 2am.
> 
> Marco's POV is coming later today <3

I’m an adult- which means that I am allowed to dance around my house to whatever pandora is streaming over the speaker system. I’m an adult which means that I probably should have known better than to dance and balance a bowl of piping hot macaroni and cheese that Sasha dropped off for me the other day. Which is why it isn't surprising when I trip and spill pasta all over myself, the floor and a box of only god knows what. This is exactly why eating at home is a terrible idea. I resign to scraping the pasta back into the bowl and heading back to the kitchen.

“Fuck” I curse out loud, stubbing my toe on a box of books thats sitting in the archway that bridges the kitchen and living room. Of fucking course, for about the fifth time I sacrifice my toes to the box gods, this is probably karma, or possibly just consequences for not cleaning my shit up. Maybe I should just go outside to eat in the real world rather than sitting on my computer for the fifth night in a row looking over accounts and drowning myself in netflix.

I take the stairs two at a time and change from my cheese sauce soaked clothes into something relatively decent- something that doesn't make me look homeless- I’m tempted to go to the bar but the weather outside is miserable once again and I don’t feel like walking. I send a quick text to Hitch telling her I’m going out to eat; she’s staying at her friends house but just in case she decided to head back to the house I didn’t want her to worry. It’s amusing how responsible I’ve apparently become in the past few week- I swear I’m going gray because all I do is worry. Especially since Hitch cracked the news to me that she wants to try and be with mom and dad so she’s going back home on Monday. I don’t know if I should let her but its what she really wants and I can’t take parents from her anymore than they already have ripped themselves from her.

♬

Twenty minutes later I’m standing in downtown Trost at a new Italian restaurant because pasta is probably the best thing that has ever happened in the entirety of my life. What I really wanted was Sasha’s mac and cheese but Connie said that this would be their last  few days of freedom before the restaurant launches into full swing.

Agata’s Italian Kitchen is full to the brim with... Trostians...Is that what they-we-are called? But fucking packed with people- there has to be one table though- all I want is pasta.

“Table, just me” I say to the hostess. She looks from her books back up to me and wears an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry sir-” She begins but I catch a glimpse of someone familiar- Marco.

“Oh, actually I’ll just join my... friend over there” I say, walking past her. She looks like she wants to say something but lets me pass.

“Dining alone?” I ask Marco, striding up to his table- because whatever this doesn’t have to weird. All I want is pasta because pasta is good. He looks good too-

Marco looks like I just came at him with a knife in a dark alley before managing to spit out a “Yes?” but its more of a question. Great. Glad this is going well.  My brain freezes up because why the fuck can’t I think before I act.

“Uh-...do you need something?” he adds on.

“It’s packed in here and uh-sorry I should probably just go” I hear myself say. It comes out more as verbal vomit than anything resembling an actual sentence.

Marco looks around seeming about as flustered as I feel. “Jean..I...It’s okay. You can sit here- I mean...it’s not like I’m waiting on anyone...” he says stumbling over his words.  

I should just go- but then it might be weirder. I hate everything right now. I’m at a loss for words so I settle on a thanks. I take off my scarf and coat because it feel like its forty million degrees inside this restaurant and sit down across from him. I need something to say- anything to say.

“I had a dinner mishap so this...” I gesture to Agata’s “was really a last minute thing”.

Marco’s only response is an “Oh...Sorry to hear that” before he looks back down to his papers, shifting his glasses down onto his face. Man he looks good in glasses- I feel myself flush because of fucking Marco and his goddamned face so I bury myself in my phone trying to scroll the awkwardness away. It’s not working.

I don’t hear the waitress approach because I startle slightly when she appears.

“Oh! Here let me get you another water-let me guess first date? Or no, you guys seem to comfortable with each other, how long have you been dating?” she says. She actually laughs. I can’t even register what must be going through Marco’s head because I can physically feel my face contorting under embarrassment. So much for clearing up any awkwardness.  

“Oh-no we are just..” I trail off and glance up at Marco who’s slightly more red in the face. I wanted to say friends- hell I wish I could have said we were on a date but we aren’t really friends since I’ve seen him once before. “Acquaintances” I finish. The word feels wrong.

I see the confusion pass over her face but she recovers. “We’ll I’ll be back with a water but can I get you guys anything else to drink?” she asks.

Caffeine. That is what I need for this. “Coffee” I say with as much of a smile as I can manage.

The waitress turns to Marco and he seems to smile about as convincingly as I do before saying “I’m fine with water, thank you”

Marco runs his hand through his hair and scratches the back of his neck- and I as always make an effort not to stare too hard at him. “Sorry” I apologize. I don’t know why because this isn’t my fault but it’s something to say.

“It’s okay” he says, but he avoids looking me in the eye. This is going well.

“If you say so” I retort, I can’t help the sarcasm edging into my voice because it’s obviously making him uncomfortable.

“So music teacher....why?” I add on when he doesn’t say anything. Maybe if he’s talking and I’m not this will go better.

He leans back in his chair and scrunches his face a little bit- which makes me smile for some ungodly reason. “Oh-uh...I grew up loving music and  theater  classes in high school...so I pursued that, I figured that I could inspire kids the way I was in school...” he shrugs before continuing “I like to teach as well-I have a masters in music theory, a bachelor’s in theater and I minored in education to be able to teach.” he finishes.

I let out a low whistle because damn that is a lot of school- which is a sentiment that I voice.  “I just got my degree to be...essentially an accountant. And it was a lot but fuck-” I cut off because I don’t know how Marco is with cursing “sorry-your schooling sounds like it was a pain in the ass”. I don’t go into my degree and what all that means because the system is complicated and frankly boring.

Marco laughs softly- which truly is a...awesome... sound before responding, “Six years of it. But it wasn’t all that bad. I mean I knew what I was getting into so that eased some of it.”

The waitress doesn’t startle me this time as she sets down a water and a coffee for me. “Y’all ready to order?” she asks with a smile which seems genuine. I gesture for Marco to order first since I jacked his table.

He orders and when the waitress looks to me I order pasta alfredo because that’s as close to my fallen mac and cheese that I can get here.

When the waitress leaves the awkward silence invades our table again so I try and remember what in the world we were talking about a few minutes ago. “Where where we?... Oh yeah...um, teaching. It has to be hard but you seem really passionate about it. Hitch thinks you’re a great teacher.” I add on because its true.

Marco still has his hand at the back of his neck looking stressed out which speaks to how difficult teaching must be, “The administration is really tough to please though, along with the other parents. I mean...I’m trying to make things fun and make it a good experience but you know how it is with art classes...kids don’t take them seriously ‘cause they are only in there for the needed electives.” he says trailing off.

“Tell the administration to kiss your ass” I say simply because frankly ‘the administration’ sounds like a bag of dicks. “That's what I did when I was in school and  I was a model student” I deadpan trying to lighten the mood.

My joke was not taken well because Marco’s eyes flick up to me and his face hardens. “I’m a teacher, I’m sure they would fire me if I said that.” he replies and I instantly feel dumb because I was so casual with his career.

“You can’t make kids do anything they don’t want to do but dude because you care you are probably so many kids relief in the day- not because its not a serious class but because they can be themselves” I straighten up in my seat as I say this, I can feel my body responding to the fact that I fucked up. “Music class was the worst part of the day when I was at high school cause the old music teacher had a stick up his ass and hated music and kids and it felt fake. But when I got to college I took an art class and it was chill and it was such a relief because it was expressive... or whatever you guys call it.” I add on.

Marco seems pacified because he takes his glasses off, resting them on his head, and seems to relax a little in his seat before replying. “That reminds me of when the hardest teachers would always tell you that they are preparing you for college and you would think if you can’t pass this class then you fail at life. But I laugh when I think back cause it was no where close to a college class. So yea… I guess mine is a relief class but I’m trying to bring as much of college back with me to these kids.”

I can't help but smile to myself a bit because conversation is finally fucking flowing.

“Freedom was what I felt most in my college classes” I say. I don’t really know why but I do. “If that helps at all”

Marco looks up at me and cocks his head to the side a bit, “Freedom isn’t something I can give these guys though, not with the administration already breathing down my neck to see if I’m the best material.”

I can’t believe that that is an actual concern for him. He’s probably the most dedicated person that I know and I don’t even really know him but in only a short amount of time its fairly obvious that he’s a great teacher.

“I can’t imagine a better teacher than you from what Hitch says about you. And I mean anyone this worried about wanting to succeed and do well is already qualified” I say in all seriousness because this shouldn’t be something he is concerned about.

“You’re not that bad… for someone who asked me if I was single at his sisters teacher conference.” Marco says and I nearly choke on my mouthful of coffee because now he decides that jokes are fun. Of course.

“Hey...I meant it, although I guess the place was perhaps a bit ‘inappropriate’....You never did answer the question though” I say because I know it will make him blush and he deserves that for making me choke on coffee.

“I’m not going to answer it” he retorts which makes me laugh because he’s blushing and he being so....Marco?

“You are cute when you blush” I voice before I can stop myself. “But I’ll answer what you must be wondering, yes I am single” I say with faux drama raising an eyebrow because I really have no self control.

The waitress stops by the table and silently drops off food with a smile, I thanks her  before she rushes off again.

Marco  just mutters “I kinda figured since you’re asking me” before turning to his food.

I twirl some pasta onto my fork before asking “Well if you won’t answer that question what about, will you do to dinner with me sometime?” I take a bite while Marco processes the question.

“Doesn’t this count?” he asks.

I can’t resist. I just can’t. I am a terrible person- but I am actually curious. “Oh...Does this count as a date then?”

“No” he replies instantaneously. I’m not particularly offended because it Marco and I sort of expected that answer.

“Okay” I say, smiling at him softly and turn my attention to my food. A few moments of silences passes between us but it’s not awkward- at least for me. “What you’re favorite song?” I ask.

I can see him thinking but after a few seconds he speaks, “A Sky Full Of Stars by Coldplay.. fantastic song to play on the piano.” I mentally run through songs I know but this isn’t one of them.

“I’ll have to listen to it...I listen to a lot of music, usually nothing with lyrics but just listening to instruments is good for crunching numbers.... keeps me focused.” I say, eating more of my pasta when I finish talking- and it’s damn good.

“So you said you’re an accountant right...why?” Marco asks.

Why am I an accountant? I hate this question because it’s probably the most boring thing to ever happen in my life but I sigh, resigning to explain it.

“Im good at numbers, I get paid a lot and that mean I can take care of Hitch. Especially her college and stuff.” I say because the ability to take care of Hitch is really the only thing that matters and my job lets me do that.

Marco makes a noise in acknowledgement and goes back to eating. I manage to not stare at his mouth while he eats which is a accomplishment.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you show up at the conference and not your parents?” he asks, looking up from his food.

How do I even approach that question? There are so many explanations to why me and Hitch keep mom and dad at arms length.

“Because my parents have interests that have expanded beyond being parents, so instead of forcing Hitch to spend more time than she wants with them I just try and be there for her. She really wants to go to the college that’s here but she doesn’t want to live with our parents but they would make her if shes so close so I moved here so she could live with me.... I figured I could be here for her since I haven't always and so the PTA meeting was just a thing that happened” I say, settling for the truest but simplest answer.

“I’m sorry- I wasn’t expecting that. But- that’s really nice of you to do that for her.” Marco says and I don’t know what that even means.

“What were you expecting?” I say but don’t give him time to answer because I want to level with him for a moment, “Listen they are shitty parents but they aren’t the worst they just don’t really care. They call Hitch an accident, hell I think that after the first couple years I was a mistake so...” I trail off because I feel myself getting sad...mad?

Something passes over Marcos face and he says words that are hard to hear but perfect, “You guys aren’t accidents. You both are making something of yourselves that your parents probably never expected and you know what, that’s perfect.”

“I’m looking forward to it” he adds, I assume when he realizes that I haven't figured out what to say.

“Looking forward to it?” I question because what is he looking forward to?

Marco lets out a loud exhale and bites his lip. “Yes. Because you are there for Hitch and she a priority of mine as a student.” he says, his words spilling from him.

I realise that he said that he’s looking forward to seeing me because I said that I’m going to be around. I can’t help but smile at that because fuck, Marco is so easy to be around.

“So you are looking forward to seeing me then” I say winking.

I am joking but apparently Marco doesn't care because he practically hissed at me- which frankly is amusing- and tells me to drop it.

I look at him knowingly and say “One day” under my breath. “But seriously Marco, thank you. I’m glad Hitch has someone at school...who’s such a great person” I add on because it’s true and I don’t want him to think that all I do is joke around.

It’s not until the waitress appears that I realize both of us have finished eating somewhere in between our conversation. Our server drops off our checks and I’m compelled to pay for him but there is no way in hell that Marco would let me pay for anything... yet.

I slip my credit card into my bill and watch him take out cash. “Well this was...fun?” I say because I really don’t know how to say goodbye.

“Considering you jacked my table, I guess it was.” Marco smiles- the motherfucker manages to pull sarcasm with me.

“Hey maybe it was cosmic. I tripped and spilled my dinner all over myself at home and then all a sudden I was at this restaurant and you were here...” I muse jokingly because I know that Marco will want to protest to that notion.

The waitress swings back around grabbing our checks and since I’m the dumbass that didn’t pay cash I’m stuck waiting to get my card back which means I can’t walk out with Marco considering he’s already in his coat and scarf.

“Probably not” Marco says, rejecting my ideas about the cosmic side of everything. “I guess I’ll see you soon? If Hitch told you about the play we are putting on.” he tacks on, grabbing his papers from the table.

“I’ll be sure to be there” I say because I’m sure as hell not passing up a chance to see Marco again. “And uh if you ever need any help with the show or selling cookies or whatever I’m good for it...Seriously, I’m good at baking” I say, I can hear the hint of laughter in my own base because I never imagined being in a situation where I’m baking for a high school show.

Marco smiles at that and says “I’ll keep that in mind. And Jean”

Marco saying my name instantly catches my attention, I want to memorize the way he says my name. In my stupor I manage to  make a noise of acknowledgment and lock my eyes with his.

“I would like to start out as friends- if anything.” he says and it hits me in the gut. I can't help but laugh because he wants to be my friend and that a fucking relief. I can do friendship. I think I need friendship.

“That sounds good...bro” I say, feeling the pressure of my teeth in my lower lip after I managed to tack on bro with a straight face. Marco covers his own mouth making a noise stifled by the obstruction.

“How ‘bout not that... See you Jean” he says before walking away. I give him a small wave and relax into my seat waiting for the waitress to bring back my card.

That went well. It could have gone worse. A lot worse.

 


	4. Another Stormy Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's house still isn't unpacked, he is sort of a stalker and eats way to much ice cream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peoples!   
> I apologize for my late posting I don't even know what happened but let me tell you, hovering family and 8 hour D&D sessions are not conducive to writing (pro-tip).   
> But anyways... I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's personally one of my favorites because I love writing for Hitch.   
> Oh! and for the purpose of this fic Trost is located in Washington State and Jean moved from California where he went to college.   
> Also I hate writing chapter descriptions. So please, forgive me.   
> <3

**November 12th**

“JEEEEEEEEEeeeannnnnnn” Hitch whines my name, turning away from the counter to face me. “You’re ruining my life” she adds on in a overly dramatic teenage voice.

What the fuck is she talking about? I open my mouth to ask as much but she cuts me off instead.

“-Is what I would say, if you were ruining my life, but I know you are going to let me go to the party I want to go to on Saturday night. Right?” she says with a grin that consumes her whole face and batting eyelashes.

My first instinct is no- because you aren’t suppose to let teenagers go to parties right. But then again when did that ever stop me?

“No drinking. Absolutely no smoking- of any kind. No condoms” I say because I know what goes on parties.

“Gotcha.” Hitch say agreeing immediately. “But to be clear-  I have sex without a condom right?” she asks feigning innocence.

“Hitch” I say groaning because she knows what I meant and now I want to ram my face into a wall or the counter. Either would work. “Be responsible” I add on.

“Okay Mr. nipple piercing” she says because apparently she just loves to fucking mock me.

“I’m twenty four”  I retort, going back to making her sandwich.

“I didn't ask for your IQ Jean” she says in a sing song voice.

I finish putting mayonnaise the top slice of bread on her sandwich- because that’s the way she likes it and hand it to her. She’s so annoying sometimes, which is why I poke her on the nose after I give her the plate of her ‘after school snack’.

“Sasha and Connie are coming over to hang out” I tell her and she smiles.

She nods. After a few minutes she says “I want a dog” looking at me seriously and hopping up to sit on the counter, her mouth full of food.

“Not gonna happen for a while” because it can’t. Between Hitch being here and working weird hours I don’t need another living thing to look after.

She groans and sticks her tongue out at me. I laugh at her because she's so childish sometimes  and turn to walk out of the room. What to clean? What to clean? Maybe I could start with the box that has tripped me nearly every goddamn time I’ve walked into the kitchen.

“Jean, Can I talk to you ‘bout something” Hitch says, pulling me out of my thoughts. I turn back to her, leaning into the archway that connects the kitchen and living room.

“Yeah of course” I respond immediately.

“Well” she says. I can hear her voice breaking a little bit already. She looks at me and I swear I am already half way across the room squeezing her arm.

“Uhh-mm, I want to try and...um.. stay with mom and dad” She says . I can see that she is on the brink of tears so I pull her into a hug.  

“Why?” I can’t help myself. I don’t really know why she would want to spend time with them.

“Because” She says pulling away from my hug slightly and lets out a shaky breath. “I-I want to try and have my parents”

I want to punch things. The way Hitch’s voice catches in her throat and the way that she still wants a relationship with parents who are so fucked up destroy me. I can feel my hands twitch with the strain of tightening so hard because my hands have instinctively balled into fists, golding my anger close to me.

“Hitch you can make whatever choice you want to make but you can always stay with me.” I say, the lie grating over my mouth like knives. I get it- I get wanting to have a mom and dad but not our mom or our dad.

Hitch isn’t stupid so I figures she knows that it’s not easy for me to say. “Thanks Jean” she says smiling softly and sniffling, trying to recollect herself. “I’ll keep you in the loop”  she adds quietly.

I just nod and pull at my hair a little bit trying to pick myself up. I need to be stable.

“When are Sasha and Connie getting here?” she asks, slipping off the counter and placing actually putting her dish in the dishwasher.

“Woah its a miracle- look the teenage girl queen of the mess has decided to put her dish in the dishwasher?” I say because it truly is a miracle.

“Shut up assface” Hitch says flipping me off- and yup- there is the Hitch I know and love.

I have to refrain from smiling and give her an eye roll instead “Sasha and Connie are getting in like twenty so be normal”

“Yeah I’ll be normal when this house is clean” she replies rolling her eyes back at me. Great. Thats just great.

♬

“Do you have a minute to talk about our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?” Connie says as I open the door offering me a beer like it was a bible. He’s an idiot.

“You’re an idiot” Sasha says somehow managing to capture my thoughts with her words.

“Yeah but you love me” Connie says reaching around her and pulling her close. She lets out a small yelp as it happen and smiles at Connie.

“Totally” She says- its easy to tell she is joking- feigning nonchalance.

“So you gonna invite us in or...” Connie says because he’s trying to be a dick. Sasha promptly smacks him and I feel myself crack a smile because of course Connie ends up with a girl who seems way out of his league and manhandles him.

“By all means, Sasha, please come in” I say, holding my hand out, gesturing for her to come in. When she steps inside, walking around Connie I pretend like I’m going to lock Connie out because he deserves it.

“If you close the door, you can’t have my beer” Connie says with a grin. And fuck he’s right. Maybe if I’m lucky he’ll trip on a box.

I walk further inside, leaving the door open so he can follow and manage to dodge a  box.

“Damn Jean, you gonna unpack in this lifetime?” Connie says calling from behind me.

“Fuck you” I call back at him, heading into the kitchen where Hitch and Sasha are talking- and oh god, they are laughing.

“Speak of the devil” Sasha says I walk through the door and yeah, that's comforting.

“Not the devil- that's giving him to much credit” Hitch says towards  Sasha and rolls her eyes.

“I hate you all” I say jokingly- well mostly jokingly as I feel arms wrap around me.

“Naw you love me bro”  Connie says as he apparently hugs me from behind. Hitch’s laughter rings around the room and Sasha throws an amused glance at me.

“Awww look at the love birds” Sasha says  in a coo. This is why I don’t need friends.

“This is mine now” I say, taking the beer from Connie’s hands and pulling out from his...embrace.

“So Hitch” Connie says turning his attention towards Hitch, she beams at him.

“Hey Connie” She says “Haven’t seen you in a trillion years but it’s hard to forget the bald kid that hangs out with your brother” she laughs.

Sasha laughs and walks over to Connie, resting her head on the top of Connie’s.

“I may have been bald but at least I wasn’t a horse face like your brother.” he says to Hitch laughing.

“Oh my god, Jean, I forgot they called you that” Hitch says, her eyes widening before she erupts into hysterical laughter, slipping off of the counter that she is sitting on.

“Thanks Con” I say- it probably comes out more as a huff- shooting his an irritated glance.

“Soooooo we brought The Avengers” Connie says in a sing song voice producing a DVD.

“Thor is the bae” Hitch says in all seriousness. What the fuck is the bae- or a bae? Whatever.

“I like this girl” I hear Sasha say as I walk from the kitchen and head down to the basement.

“Come on guys, the TV is unpacked downstairs.” I call out to the kitchen.

“Its a miracle anything is unpacked” Hitch says in a purposefully not so subtle voice.

It’s going to be a long night. A really fucking long night.

♬

**November 13th**

It’s balls cold. Like fucking cold even in my car. I need a better car for Trost- one with a furnace inside of it, and possibly gloves attached to the steering-

“Are you bitching about the cold to yourself again? You're making your disgusted face” Hitch says, opening the car door and climbing in. Her hair is sticking up from her head and her obnoxiously red backpack if being flown into the back seat with a loud thump. I’m sure that’s really great for whatever is in her bag and for my car.

I pick a piece of dried grass out from her hair- what the fuck was she even doing?

“Shut up I was crawling under the bleachers” she says, annoyed at how I ruffle my hand through her hair.

“Bleachers? cliche” Because she’s fun to make fun of.

“Shut up asshole. I’m surprised you weren’t sitting her pinning over Marco” Hitch says, looking at me with a ‘innocent’ smile. I had noticed Marco- in a friend way? Because a  friend totally notice the way that he smiles and how he unconsciously taps his fingers to the rhythm of a soundless beat. Or sits in their car and thinks about how awesome it would be to kiss them. Just friendly things.

“We are just friends” Even as I hear myself say it it sounds false. Great.

“Whatever you say” She hums, turning up the stereo.

“You staying the night tonight?” I ask.

“Yeah...I’m going to try and go back on Sunday night. Mom said she's going to go back to AA” Hitch says after I start driving away from the school.

“For the fourth time?” I ask, because it’s not really a big thing that mom is going to AA, she is either drunk or in AA.

“Sixth” Hitch says quietly.

“Well sixth time's a charm ain't it” Hitch doesn't respond to me, but instead kicks her feet up on to the dashboard. “Dairy Queen?” I ask although I know the answers going to be yes.

She smiles at me and nods, I’m glad that ice cream can fix things.

♬

**November 14th**

I can see Marco looking at me but he doesn’t seem to notice me wave- maybe I’m going crazy. It’s a possibility and I’ll blame it on the weather, and parents.

I wait for ten minutes for Hitch. Where she is, I have no clue. Probably crawling under more bleachers.

Marco is standing alone, and I am sitting alone. And even though it’s snowing outside I want to talk to him. I have no self control because I’m out of my car and standing next to him before I can decide any differently.

“Hey Man” I say. Who the fuck says hey man?I apparently startle him because he flinches but nods anyway.

“I can’t believe you have to stand out here, but at least it’s not raining” It was snowing which is still pretty fucking awful but at least everything isn’t wet.

He blushes, which I can’t figure out why, but its distracting. I don’t catch the front end of his response because I’m lost in the way he flushes. I am a terrible friend.

“~doesn’t rain” he say. I don’t know what he said. Fuck.

I hope he didn’t answer this already, “So...how have you been?” I ask.

I can see the gears turning in his head as he thinks. I wonder if he’ll go with an honest answer or if he wallows alone and will just say great.

“Been better? I- I rent a crappy apartment so... problems tend to happen...often.” he answers. That’s better than a great. At least I know what that feels like- I feel my face pull into a grimace because the last apartment I had was the worst.

“I’m guessing your landlords a shithead” I tell him.

Marco looks at me with a look of shared sympathy- which is sort of weird to see on his face and says, “Doesn’t answer the phone half the time.”

“I’m sorry” I apologize because Marco is probably the least deserving of dumb shit. I on the other hand...

“It’s okay. It’s a roof over my head.” He says to me. He’s a martyr- of course he is. Jesus I want to offer him my place if he ever needs it but considering we just met and how we met it’s probably aggressive or whatever the fuck people call me.

No self control is the theme of the night though so I offer it to him anyway, “Well if you ever need to get away, I’m basically always at my house”

Marco laughs at me and says the dorkiest thing in the world, “It’s okay, school keeps me busy so it’s basically my getaway place”.

Normally I might be miffed about being rejected but this guy is such a adorable fucking loser- he loves his job and he’s not even just hot. He’s cute. What is wrong with me.

“You are sort of a dork Bodt... sort of  a dork” I say because I am actually at a loss for words.

Marco rolls his eyes at me and smiles before asking, “Do you need me to go find Hitch?”

Oh yeah. I was here for Hitch.

“Naw I’m sure she’s taking her sweet time” I say, taking out my phone to text her because I don’t remember her asking me to pick her up. I shoot her a quick text asking if she’s hiding under the bleachers. “But I’m texting her so hopefully she’ll be out soon” I add.

“Don’t know why you’re standing out here when you could be in your warm car.” he says. It’s hard to make me insecure but damn he knew how to hit all my fucking buttons.

“Because you’re out here” I says with a laugh that hopefully covers up the drop of panic I felt.

“I’ve been out here for three days, nothing special” he says rolling his eyes. It looks calculated, like he has to think about doing it.

“Just thought company would be nice.” I say because its actually true. “You know, cause you said you wanted to be friends.” I add on because it’s also true but it’s also fun to tease him.

“Yea, but I’m sure Hitch would like to get home and honestly so would I.” he hums.

Fuck I’m keeping him from getting home. I can’t say anything in response because I jump five feet out of my sin as weight impacts me from behind.

“Hey horse face” I hear Hitch say her arms snaking around me and her face pressing into the back of my coat- and holy fuck she called me horse face in front of Marco.

“You’re an evil brat” I tell her. I shoot Marco a look because he knows teenagers- he’s a teacher.

Marco only lets out a small laugh before saying, “Have a good day you two. See you tomorrow Hitch?”

Hitch unwraps herself from me and pulls on a hat- it;s the beanie that matches mine and we must look so ridiculous right now. If I could roll my eyes any harder they would probably roll out of my head and roll away.

I miss the first part of what Hitch says but catch her talking about a snow day. She’s smiling like the devil at Marco so I’m sure it was something rich with Kirschstein humor.

“Come on let’s let Mr. Bodt go home” I say, pulling on the collar of her jacket in the direction of the car.

“Okay Hitch. You just keep wishing for that snow day and maybe I’ll just make up a test for Monday instead.” Marco says, which makes me laugh because I’m glad someone isn’t putting up with her shit at school. I nod goodbye to him while I laugh before picking up Hitch who screams, and throw her over my shoulder.

“Dairy Queen?” Hitch asks when I set her down by the car.

“This can’t be a healthy habit” I say because while I know that french fries and milkshakes shouldn’t be the foundation of our food period, it makes her happy.

Hitch whines and makes a face at me. And because I’m a fucking push over I give in.

“Fine- but from now own you have to pick one day of the week for Dairy Queen” I say. Authority is kind of fun.

“Whatever you say brother dearest” Hitch says with a grin that I should probably be more concerned about- but I won’t give her the satisfaction.


	5. Out of My League

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Jean get cooking in the kitchen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry I posted late...again.   
> I have a million+ excuses but yeah life happened so here is a really long chapter that I wrote partially in new york, then on a sleeper train and finally in my dorm in georgia. this chapter has taken a trip with me lol.   
> As always thank you pencilonly for getting my ass in gear.   
> Also ladylaudanum who really made me sit down and write. 
> 
> enjoy guys <3

November 14th

**-Is this Jean?-**

Unknown number- who have I given my number too lately?  My mind immediately jumps to Marco and it feels a little too good to be true.

-Depends on who’s asking-

I type out my response and hope it’s vague enough. Its pathetic how hard my heart is beating in my chest- it could be Marco- but then again I just saw him so why would he be texting me.

My phone chimes before I can wrap my head in to many circles overthinking things.

**-Depends on who you give your card too and promise baked goods-**

It’s Marco. I feel face pull into a smile at the same time I feel a soft impact on the back of my head.

‘Why are you smiling like an idiot?” Hitch says, appearing behind me.

“Go away” I say, typing out a message to Marco.

-lol yes this is the Jean you are looking for-

“But I love you” She says draping over the back of the couch and onto my shoulders.

“What do you want?” because Hitch always wants something when she’s acting extra endearing.

“I’m going to go practice lines and sleep over at Marlowe’s house tonight?” Hitch says, phrasing it as both a statement and a question. I really wonder if I was this manipulative as a teenager.

**-I’m taking up your offer on the baked goods….If that’s ok?? The play is tomorrow and I only have help from one parent and I can only do so much baking by myself…-**

“Jeaannn” Hitch whines, pulling me out from my text message.

“Yes, you can go.” I say before I can even think. Wait- who even is this Marlowe kid?

“Is Marlowe a boy?” I ask her, turning my head so I can look at her face.

“…yes.” Hitch says looking at me like I’m dumb.

“Be home by midnight” I say because boys- teenage boys are a no.

“Whatever.” She says walking away from the couch. That went really well.

I look back to my text messages and Marco’s text is there, just sitting in my phone.

-How do brownies sound?”

Immediately he responds back to me.

**-Sounds perfect. Thank you-**

I want to hang out with him. He said he wanted to be friends and being around him is fucking addicting. No clue as to why considering he’s not my type- he’s nice. I want to hang out with him and because I have no self-control I text him. But that’s what friends do…

-Want to come over for baking? Like friends do?-

Hopefully y that’s not weird. I never know what he’ll find weird.

**-Sounds sketchy-**

I can’t tell if he’s joking. I almost call out to Hitch so that she can decipher the message – it would be weird for her, weird for Marco if she was involved with this stuff.

-Calm down I invited you to bake not to get baked lol-

**-Wait what?-**

Oh my fucking god he is really innocent. I am a horrible person.

-…like getting stoned. Nevermind! That’s not the point…haha…double the hands means double the baking-

I type out the least awkward text message I can manage while feeling like I’m treading on ice- walking the line of friends and way out of bounds.

-think of the children-

I add onto the text because really the whole process would go much faster with double the hands. As long as I don’t start thinking about his hands.

**-fine. Only cause you make a fair point-**

Well at least I know the students are his weak point.

-sure sure sure.. want to meet at the whole food downtown? I have nothing in my house currently.-

**-Alright-**

-meet in 30?-

**-45ish? It’s kinda a long walk?-**

-Want me to just pick you up?-

**-no-**

No? This rubs me the wrong way but as much I want to insist it will come off as aggressive if I do- shit. I text back in the most neutral way possible.

-mmkay…stay warm lol. See you in the baking aisle-

I wait several minutes to see if he responds. He doesn’t. Fucking Marco Bodt has seemed to waltz right into my fucking mind like he owns the place, if he wasn’t so intriguing it might be infuriating.

“Bye horse face” I hear Hitch say as she walks across the hallway that separates the kitchen and living room.

“Midnight” I call back because I’m sure she would claim to forget.

“Yes sir” she says mockingly. God I love her but boy would it be easier to lock her up Rapunzel style.

I bite my tongue on telling her to be safe- I know she will be. It’s hard not to baby her especially because our mom and dad are such fuck ups. She needs a responsible guardian which I can try to be but she wants our parents so that’s what I’m going to try to give her.

The house is so in shambles still- cluttered with boxes. The house itself is beautiful not that I’ve had much time to appreciate the “colonial revival”  house as the real estate agent described it. I pace throughout the house rearranging crap for a solid fifteen minutes before I figure I can leave the house without getting to the grocery store desperately early.

♬

I still manage to get to the store early- although he is walking so it isn’t surprising. It’s balls cold outside and the weather is actually beginning to get infuriating. I’m waiting for it to become normal but I just miss Los Angeles weather.

I see his read beanie first, and then my gaze is drawn to the way he pulls his scarf up over his nose to protect himself from the cold. I can’t believe he walked in this weather.

“Hey man” I say because I figured I should talk to him rather than just stare at him.

He lets out a “hey” that is practically consumed in a breath and rubs at his cheeks. He looks flushed as all hell from the wind.

“Cold?” I ask stupidly because I don’t know what else to say.

“A little” Marco responds. He’s such a fucking liar. Before I can call his bluff he tacks on “So-what all do we need to get?”

We need everything; Hitch and I have been living off of Dairy Queen, pasta and pity meals from Sasha and Connie. I hear myself laugh because I’m sure Marco is going to judge me when I say, “Just about everything- I haven’t bought groceries for my house except for water, beer and pasta. Also we have the possibility of making cookies since we have the extra hands.”

He raises his eyebrows and I think my breath falters because he looks hot when does things with his face.

“Well do you at least have a list?” he asks me. I nod and hand hand him my phone because I actually am prepared for this.

“And I’m pretty good at rice krispy treats” He says. Rice Krispy treats- genius.

“I haven’t made rice krispy treats since Hitch’s 6th birthday” I share with him. That was before mom started drinking and dad had been working more so he wasn’t there. That is a good memory.

“I make them far too often- rehearsals and such.” Marco says in response. I didn’t realize being a teacher meant so much baking. Before I can say as much he interrupts my train of thought.

“How about you grab the baking stuff and I’ll everything else?”  Marco asks me- I hesitate because I want to spend time with him because I realized I don’t know that much about him. But if we spend less time in the store we can get to baking sooner...

“Got it, divide and conquer” I say to him before he disappears down the aisle. I look at the wall of baking ingredients that stretch down the aisle and start picking out all the shit that will need to go into these suckers. I love baking- mom was a great baker before she started hitting the bottles- but baking is also annoying as fuck when you have to buy everything to start from scratch. I grab chocolate chips and random baking crap like that in case something goes awry and there has to be back up goods. Plus Hitch will most likely beg for a cake to be made.

There are so many fucking types of cereal so I am relieved when Marco finally catches up to me.

“Are we going with classic or crazy?” I ask him because there are way too many option and I don’t know how classic of a guy Marco is.

“I was thinking crazy” he says, scanning the wall.

“Alright I can dig it” I say, before I tack on “let’s get wild” with a wink because making Marco blush is the best. And yeah we are friends but I act this way around Connie too. I grab some fruity pebbles because they seem the most sugary and thats what kids need- sugar.

He nudges me in the arm - probably for the wink and picks a box of lucky charms.

“You think two boxes is enough or do those frosted flakes look like they need to die a violent marshmallow-y death?” I ask him because if we want to make money at the bake sale we need enough sugar to sell.

“Grab them as well” he replies. He bites his lip and my brain stops working for a minute. I laugh to cover up how incredibly awkward it is for me to be standing in middle of a cereal aisle holding cereal staring at Marco’s lips and wondering what they taste like.

“Let’s go check out” I hum, hopefully I don’t sound like I feel- which is completely flustered. I fucking hate feelings. ‘he is just my friend’ is going to be my new mantra.

“I’ll reimburse you after the show” Marco says. I barely register it because I’m lost in my own thoughts.  He wants to reimburse me- like hell thats going to happen.

“No need man- any other parent would buy groceries to make shit for the bake sale. So you won’t” I tell him because there is no reason I wouldn’t spend money to help the school- especially if its for something that Hitch actually likes. And to help out Marco.

“Well no other parents did so-...” He trails off and his face twists up a bit. I don’t understand why no one would help him. He’s sort of like a puppy- who wouldn’t help a puppy.

“Well I’m just cooler than most people” I say smiling at him. Because not only is it true but I think he also needs a distraction. I begin to scan items because now I need a distraction from thinking about all the ways that I could distract Marco.

“I would use the word caring rather than cooler” Marco says rolling his eyes at me and it takes all I have not to blanch at his words because having people see right through me is uncomfortable.

“Only you could insult someone and actually say something nicer at the same time” I say. Despite the feeling of being exposed I realize how Marco-y it is that he said that. Because of-fucking-course he see’s the best in people.

I finish scanning, pay, and grab as many bags as possible before Marco says softly “i wasn’t trying to insult you”

“Whatever you say” I tell him- because I know he wasn’t trying to insult me but it’s cute that he’s so serious.

I start putting grocery bags in the back seat and he joins me doing the same. It’s almost amusing how domestic it is.

“It’s about a ten minute drive” I say, cluing Marco into the plan.

A look of- something I can't really decipher- passes over Marcos face as he steps away from the car. “...I’ll just walk” he says with hesitation in his voice. What the fuck is going on?

“Come on it’s dark, it’ll probably be a twenty five minute walk anyways.” I say, hoping that it doesn’t sound like I’m pleading to much. Why would he want to walk alone? On one hand Trost isn’t the safest place ever, it’s cold as shit and its a fairly far walk. On the other hand does he not want to drive with me because I did something wrong- or say something. What the fuck is going-

“I don’t want to be a bother” he all but spits out. I fight back a laugh that threatens to spill over- not because any things funny but because of the sheer ridiculous of what he’s saying. Here I am trying to spend time with him and he’s saying he’s a bother. The fucking irony in my life is incredible.

“Hey!” I say trying to grab his attention because he seems like a deer in headlights about to bolt, “It’s not a ‘bother’. I like hanging out with you. Will you please get in the car” I ask him. I’m trying not to be aggressive. Always trying.

Marcos face deflates a little bit but doesn’t seem to appear like he’s going to sprint away and actually nods- biting his damned lip again.

“...ok. Sure.” he says softly, opening the passenger door. Wow- that worked- and god dammit my car is sort of disgusting in the passengers seat because Hitch has decided that cleaning up is no longer something she has to do. I quickly grab the many Dairy Queen bags and toss them in the back trying not to throw them on top of the groceries.

“Sorry, Hitch apparently doesn’t know what a trash can is.” I say to him. God between this and then seeing my house he’s going to think I’m disgusting.

He laughs softly and noticeably seems to relax at least a tiny bit.

“It’s okay. My little brother doesn’t know what one is either” he says. He has siblings- huh.

“How old are your siblings?” I ask as I pull out of the store's parking lot because I’m genuinely curious.

“Uh-My little brother is 17.” he responds. Jesus- this brother of his must be a saint otherwise how could someone with younger siblings want to become a teacher and work with more kids.

I laugh- because Marco is Marco- which I haven't quite figured out what that means but...

“So, you have first hand experience with how much teenagers suck.” I say, continuing to drive the route home, thankful its not snowing or raining.

He lets out a small laugh, “Oh yea- But I mean we were teenagers not too long ago.” he says.

“Don’t remind me I say with a groan” Partially as a joke but mostly because being a teenager sucked- living at home was the worst and dealing with high school was hell.

“...So how long have you lived in Trost?” I ask him, again curiosity getting the better of me- but we are trying to be friends so I figure I can pry a little bit.

“A couple of months...? I moved here in June from Jinae” he says. Jinae- its a nice place, right near the Arizona-Mexico border.

“I just moved here like three weeks ago. I’ll warn you my house is still in boxes” I say because fair is fair and I’m pretty sure it’s unfair to drag someone into your house and surprise them when you can hardly see over tops of boxes- at least the kitchen is unpack. Well and the bedroom but that’s not what I want to think about right now.

I hear him laugh at me but can’t glance over at him despite how much I want to because I’m keeping my eyes on the road as I approach an intersection.

“Warning noted...Did you grow up here then?” he asks.

“Yeah-well-we lived in France for a few years but moved back when Hitch was born.” I say not really divulging into the whole story of my parents and the fucked up ways they decided to live their lives.

“Wow... was it nice?” he asks. I hate this question- France was nice- or rather, I can see the benefits of growing up in a different culture but I don’t really remember France. I mostly just remember my parents.

“It was my life for eight years.” I respond, trying to walk the line between the truth and sparing the breath that it would take to rehash something that doesn’t need to be rehashed. I pull into the driveway thankful that for fucking once time seems to be on my side and that  Marco won’t get to ask more questions about my family.

I unbuckle my seat belt to get the bags when I remember how Hitch decimated my passengers seat door in some unknow incident that she has yet to explain and I have yet to fix. All I know is that she is getting a job and paying for the five hundred dollar locking mechanism she broke with her teenage girl angst.

I lean over the center console and over Marco as well trying maneuver the door handle in a way that Marco wouldn’t have to climb out the front seat to get out of the car. Its just- we are suddenly very close and I feel like I can hear his heart beat or maybe I can just hear my own but I have the urge to explain myself.

“Sorry. Hitch broke the door the other day fucking with the lock.” I say trying not to sound flustered as I get the door open and lean back into my seat. I cure Hitch and sort of praise her because I shouldn’t be that close to Marco- but I want to be.

“How did she manage that?” he asks me as he gets out of the car and opens the back seat door to retrieve the groceries. I look at him from the front seat trying to collect myself.

“Teenage girl voodoo powers and spite” I say before I get out of the car to join him in gathering bags.

“That’s a completely rational answer” he says giving me a smirk. And he so fucking deserves the wink I give him for smirking.

I don’t wait for him to respond but make my way to the front door and unlock it, walking through the door letting Marco follow behind me, “Welcome to Mi Casa” I mumble as he walks in bracing for the judgement of my boxes.

“You really should start putting stuff away.” he says- I can hear the disbelief in his voice.

“Probably” I shrug because its true. Everyone has said this its just I’m busy or I’m not at the house so packing hasn’t been a priority. Part of me can admit that I know that if I’m unpacked I’m stuck here, but I like to believe I’m lazy.

“I work from home so it’s hard to separate when clients harass me and  when I can unpack boxes” I attempt to explain. Marco is setting groceries on the counter and slowly unpacking the bags. Marco is in my house- in my kitchen- and part of my mind flicks to the image of me and Marco being domestic- and well that's new.

“Hitch told me I should get a cat because a cat would love all the boxes” I say- saying the first thing that came to mind to fill the air with anything that would keep conversation going.

Marco laughs and his face relaxes, “I think Tuff would be in heaven here”

“Tuff” I ask because I’m not following completely.

He seems almost embarrassed- as if he hadn’t meant to say what he did and automatically my interest skyrockets to an impossibly high level of curiosity, “Oh-um...she’s my cat” he answers.

Jesus fucking christ- I date guys. I am gay- pretty fucking gay at that but never have I really been in a relationship with someone where it wasn’t just all about sex. Hell even when I was dating girls it was mostly about sex. I haven’t been in any sort of relationship where I think someone is cute, or adorable. Those adjectives are reserved for small animals, babies and sometimes Hitch. I can’t even process the fact that the majority of what Marco says is cute or sweet- I don’t know what to do with this information. He’s my friend. I want him to be my friend. I mean I guess sometimes Connie is cute- no not really- but maybe this is just a friend thing. Or a second gay crisis.

“That’s cute” I say with a smile because it’s true and I’m long past the point of self control. Marco doesn’t say anything and I feel like I’m on the ledge so I look for something to do or say- anything. Drinks- I will offer him a drink.

I grab beer for myself from the fridge, “Want something to drink?” I ask him.

“No thanks” he says scrunching his nose up.

Music. Music is what I need to calm down and fill the background with anything but silence. I fiddle with my phone to try and harness the powers of my pandora to stream throughout the house- because the speaker system was the first thing to be unpacked.

“I have water, juice, soda, and Hitch’s energy drinks” I say, because I don’t want him to think his only options are beer.

“I’m fine for now.” he says- because of course he’s fine.

I start to busy myself with getting out the necessary bowls and dishes that we would need to bake. “Well get those motherfucker done” I say with a laugh because all I don't have to worry about filling silence with anything if we are baking.

Marco starts mixing his Rice Krispy Treats- or cereal treats together and he’s using the microwave which is sort of dumbfounding since the kitchen in this place is ridiculously equipped to make anything.

“Microwave? How very college of you” I say while mixing the dry ingredients- measuring them carefully because impatiens is always what gets me.

“I have using the microwave down to a science so don’t complain” he retorts. I can’t argue with that so I put my hands up in surrender and go back to mixing the brownies - adding in eggs.

There is a long awkward moment where I expect Marco to say something and of course he says nothing so words just bubble to my mind. I fucked this up with being so dumb the first time I met him.

“Hey...so...I wanted to apologize” I do want to apologize- not really- I want to apologize but I don’t actually want to apologize out loud. But I did.

“Apology accepted” he says- and it’s like he knows me to well because he doesn’t elaborate. In relief I add the final ingredients to the mix and pour it in the pans I set out hoping to god that I did everything right even while distracted. The brownies are in the oven and if I have any luck at all I won’t burn the house down. I’m playing this cool- I can be a friend a great friend.

My gaze gets caught up in him- viciously stirring marshmallow mix and cereal together- and it looks fucking amazing. The cereal. Of course it’s the cereal that looks amazing, which is why I cross the floor of the kitchen to watch him work.

“You all good or would you like some assistance?” I ask him because I need to do something with my hands and stop thinking.

“I think I got it” He says while he works. Well there goes that plan. I scan the kitchen for what needs to be done. Dishes- thank fuck Hitch doesn’t do her dishes.

I snatch a piece of cereal covered in marshmallow from a pan he’s working with, “Fuckkkk this is amazing” I think I may have moaned. Fuck. But seriously I should make this.

“Told you I was great at this” Marco says with a small laugh. I begin to wash the bowls in the sink- which seemed to be never ending.

“Hey, I didn’t know if your tastes were to be trusted.” I say to him and flick water in his face. Which he wipes off with the edges of his sleeves- somewhere in the back of my mind a voice says its adorable. But I chose to ignore that voice.

“That goes for your brownies too” he says, his face folding into a pout. I of course roll my eyes at him because my brownies are amazing- I’ve been making them since I was a kid and it’s probably the only thing my mom gave me that's worth anything.

I wash the last bowl and realize that we are going to have nothing to do while the brownies finish baking- a thought which succeeds in making my gut feel like it’s caving in on me.

“What do you want to do ‘till the brownies come out?”

Marco shrugs his shoulder- which is extremely helpful- and says “ I dunno. It’s your house.”

“I have a pool table in the basement” I ask because with the exception of that, my bedroom, the office and the kitchen the rest of the house is basically in boxes.

“...Eh...I guess we can?” Marco looks completely uninterested.

“Don’t sound enthused.” I tease- laughing because he’s ridiculous. “Come on. Let’s go rip the plastic off my couch.” I say- already crossing into the living room.

“I'm just not a big fan of pool- I still can't believe you haven't done anything in here yet.” Marco says looking around the room- and yeah it’s pretty bad but it’s been a fairly low priority.

“I have no time- the only thing I have unpacked is my bedroom and office”  Not that they had a lot that needed to go into them. I made my bed and set up my computer and called it a day- well a week.

“Hitch is gonna be so proud of me” I think aloud as I slice into the industrial plastic that the couch is wrapped in.

“Sure. If I didn't ask you to bake, what would you have been doing?” He asks me as he starts to pull at the piece of plastic I had been ripping away.

“Probably finishing crunching the numbers for some Chinese accounts-It’s eight pm here which means its eight am there, so the work day has just begun.” I say as I rip the last piece of plastic off the couch. Admittedly it looks much nicer not covered in the beat up wrap.

“You could have told me no if you had to work” Marco says, his brows furrowed. Why does he worry so much?

“I don’t need to work- that's the point of working for yourself” I say sinking into the couch- it feels better without plastic too- which honestly shouldn’t be surprising.

Marco sits on the arm of the couch like he’s scared I might bite him of something which causes me to roll my eyes at him. “That just sounds lazy though” he says with a smile. Man when he whips out the jokes he really goes hard.

I throw a pillow at him and watch it thunk into his head before he catches it. It ruffled his hair and the general surprise of getting hit in the face has him looking disheveled. He only raises an eyebrow at me. Something seems to change in that moment- thing become lighter. Whatever.

“So what’s the show tomorrow? Hitch didn’t tell me what it’s about just that it’s a thing”  I ask him.

Marco leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees “Instead of giving lots of tests, I’m making them put on a play; The Wizard of Oz.” he says with a smile that lights up his face. Wow he really fucking loves this job which is actually cool- he would probably really get along with Connie and Sasha.

“How’s that going?” I ask, grabbing my beer from where I left it on the mantle place and sitting back down, taking a sip.

“Good so far. We’ve been practicing for a while so they are getting the hang of it. I’m not expecting it to be perfect- I just want them to have fun.”

I hear myself start to hum follow the yellow brick road because I’ve seen the movie about a hundred times with Hitch. I catch myself before I accidentally start singing.

“I think for the next assignment I want them to learn an instrument of their choice” He adds on.

“That’s an intense assignment. But it actually sounds like it would be useful.” I say, looking back over at him. Music class would have been a shit ton more fun if my teacher had an ounce of talent as a teacher or a musician.

“I rather be giving at least two big projects and some tiny one? Kinda like College- It’s okay if they don’t learn it completely, I just want them to try- and be proud of themselves.” Marco says shrugging his shoulders.

“I wish I had a teacher like you-like I honestly fucking hated music because my teacher made us play hot crossed buns more than I could count.” I’m sure my face contorts at the mention of hot crossed buns- the worst fucking tune to ever be produced.

“Hot crossed buns?” Marco questions...and how the fuck does he not know this tune he’s a music teacher.

I hum it to him and look up to see if he’s recognized the song- he just sort of looks like he’s in pain, “Fucking worst song ever made- do the world a favor and be the teacher that stops teaching it- that and the fucking recorder”

“Wasn’t planning on it either. Even I hate the recorder.” He says.

“Thank lord Marco” I say in dramatic relief. Before adding, “No. A fucking freckled Jesus.”

His blush is enough to make the joke worth it- before he says “Yeah yeah I know- I’m covered in them” which brings my mind to dangerous places just thinking about where all his freckles extend too.

I practically stumble off the couch, maybe if I stretch it will hide hide it. “I-I’m gonna check on the brownies” I say, heading towards the kitchen. The brownies need ten more minutes when I check them.

“Sure I can’t get you anything?” I call out because he’s been here for over an hour- like isn’t he dehydrated- or hungry. Anything?

“I’ll have water” Marco calls back to me sounding slightly defeated- which admittedly is amusing.

I pour out bottled water into a glass and the rest happens way too quickly. One minute I am walking and the next I am looking at the floor.I let out a stream of curses not paying attention to what I’m saying but more to the fact that I just tripped, and broke a glass, all in front of Marco.

Jesus Christ why me...

“This is why you should unpack” I hear Marco say from the couch. He seems way too amused.

“Thank you Marco- very helpful” I retort and the motherfucker is laughing so hard but I can tell he’s trying to control himself. I glance up at him and his face is so red and he’s biting into his bottom lip and I can’t help but laugh.

Marco gets off the couch and heads into the kitchen, coming back with a broom that I didn't know he knew where or how to find but accepted it.

“I’ll get this- you can grab yourself a bottle of water from the fridge.” I say taking the broom from him.

He disappears for a moment and I manage to  get most of the glass shards up off the floor.

“...Why didn’t you just get me a bottle of water in the first place?” he asks, reappearing in the archway that bridges the kitchen to the hallway.

Because I’m an idiot.

“Because I thought a glass would be nicer” I say instead. “Last time I try to be fucking hospitable” I joke.

“ Maybe having your house clean first would be more hospitable” he says clearly teasing me. Of course now he’s making fun of me.

“Just go sit down Marco and stop looking at my boxes.” I say as I walk away, holding the dustpan full of glass.

I sit down on the floor of the living room and he smiles at me with an amused grin on his face, “I’ll ask Hitch once every week if you cleaned  your house yet.”

He’s probably going to make fun of me forever for this- which means he’s gonna be around. Thats good.

“Fine, but if I clean then you have to come to my ‘housewarming’ party” I threaten before scooting over closer to a box- opening it. “Books. If I knew where the bookshelves are” fuck- are they in the basement or...

“Deal” Marco says softly before leaning over the side of the couch. “and how can you lose your bookshelves?” he asks. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m a dumbass.

“They aren’t assembled and they look like every other box- I think they were maybe put in the basement” I say.

He laughs, “Maybe you should label your boxes next time?” he suggests.

I’m never moving again. I will die in Trost because never again am I moving boxes. fuck that. I tell him as much, lying down on the floor, exhausted from nothing in particular.

“Just food for thought” Marco hums, trailing off softly. I wonder if I’m boring to hang out with- he’s resting against the couch with his eyes closed, hands wrapped around the bottle of water.

“Tired?” I ask him.

“A little- how much longer on the brownies?” he asks, opening up his eyes. Shit I am boring to hang out with.

I glance down at my watch, “hundred and twenty seconds” because I’ve gotten in the habit of annoying Hitch by giving long answers about time to make her do math. I grab one of the leather bound book and take it with me as I go to the kitchen because it’s a journal from when I was sixteen and that doesn’t need to be left where anyone can find it. Especially not Hitch.

“These are done” I tell Marco who has followed me into the kitchen. I begin to pull the pans out of the oven and set them on the burners of the stove.

“Can you bring them tomorrow you think?” he says when I turn towards him.

He thinks that no ones going to help him ever doesn't he.

“Duh.” I respond. “Wanna ride home now? I’m not kicking you out or anything I just don’t want to hold you hostage.”

“I can walk, it can’t be any farther than walking downtown- and I can go now if we got everything down.” he say. Of fucking course he wants to walk home- because he doesn't want to be a bother or whatever bullshit he said at the grocery store.

“You aren’t walking home in the cold Marco” I say. I add on a “please” because I can’t make him do what he doesn't want to do but I hate the idea of him walking home when I could just drive him.

“It’s not that cold Jean” he says and the way he says my name distracts me because I think I love the way he says my name.

“Fine.” I resign because maybe he isn’t as much of a bitch about walking in the cold as I am. “But I can still drive you- there’s no point in walking”

“Well maybe I like to walk over drive” he says. what does that mean? It’s not exactly like it’s the nicest weather to go out and get a breath of ‘fresh’ air.

“If you want to walk, you can. But will you at least like fucking text me when you get home so I know you haven’t been jumped?” I look at him wishing he would just let me drive.

“Yes mom” Marco says sarcastically. Of course he does. Asshole.

“You suck” I retort because I’m really great at comebacks.

“I’ll take that as a compliment” he says and I swear he’s trying to kill me.

“What time do you want me?” I ask, knowing the innuendo behind the words would be enough to make Marco blush.

“To drop off the stuff?” he say. Sure lets go with that.

“My classroom at 3 if thats okay? The play starts at five but I’m there early to get things set up” He adds on, taking a few step towards the front door after collecting his stuff.

He is leaving and I have to say... goodbye?

“So....Thanks.” I say. I’m not sure why but apparently my mouth doesn't work when Marco’s around.

“For what?” he says pausing like he might end it at that but adds on, “Really I should be thanking you for helping me this.” He adds on. I want to thank him for making me start baking again. But instead the fucking truth comes out.

“I don’t know...tolerating me?” I say. Laughing to cover up the fact that I don’t know why I’m saying all of these things to him.

“ Have a good night Jean” he replies before opening the door.

“Night- text me” I remind him because seriously if he’s going to walk in the cold at night he should have someone waiting to see if he’s alive by the end of it.

“I will” he says before leaving. And just like that he’s gone. And I’m fucking exhausted.

♬

9:45pm

**-image attachment-**

**-I’m alive but got jumped-**

The text from Marco makes me laugh because its a picture of a cat sitting on what I assume is Marco’s chest. I set down the bookshelf pieces that I’m piecing together.

-Good. I’m guessing that’s Tuff-

**-Yes~She owns me-not the other way around-**

-lol little did you know that while you were getting jumped by a cat, this was kicking my ass-

I send him a picture of the half built bookshelf and hope that he doesn’t read too much into why I’m building it.

**-Heey! You found it!-**

-Unfortunately-

**-Have fun with that :)-**

I send him the murder death emojis to convey how this shelf might actually kill me before I’m done with them because fuck Ikea.

**-Then who will bring baked good tomorrow?-**

-Do you believe in ghosts?-

**-Yes. But Still. Don’t kill yourself over it.-**

-Don’t worry. Hope you’re ready to come to a house warming party-

**-yea yea. Sure.-**

I feel myself smiling- actually my face sort of hurts from smiling lately.

-Go to sleep loser-

His text comes a few minutes later after I attached a second piece to the bookshelf.

**-I’m getting there. See you tomorrow-**

-mhmmm-

I’m tempted to text him as I build but I don’t want to keep him from sleeping or be clingy or whatever.

♬

12:02am

My first instinct is to grab the nearest thing that cleavable and run towards the door because it’s fucking scary to wake up on the couch to the door slamming.

“I got home Marlowe... I’ll see you tomorrow” I hear Hitch’s voice say as she turns into the living room and hangs up her phone.

“It’s 12:03” I say looking at her. I’m joking but she gets on me about being ‘late’ all the time so I can give her hell if I want to.

“Three minutes isn’t late Jean” She says dropping her bag to the floor and leaning against a box.

“It was when I was ‘late’ to your parent teacher conference” I respond rolling my eyes at her.

“Your welcome for that by the way.” She says smiling and plopping on the couch next to me.

“For what” I say because I have no clue what she’s talking about.

“Marco” She says, flopping over and situating her head in my lap and her feet up on the arm of the couch.

“Shut up” I say covering her mouth with her hand- only pulling it away when she bites down on the palm of my hand.

“Why does it smell like brownies in here?” She asks after a few minutes.

“Bake sale tomorrow”

“Can we make cookies” She asks me, looking up at me with pleading doe eyes.

“Fine” I say with mock stubbornness. Hitch shouldn’t know how much sway she has with me because she’s evil.

“You are the best.” She says. “And I’m glad you’re staying.... the couch looks nice” she adds sitting up and ties her short hair into a tiny bun before heading towards the kitchen.


	6. Shut Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wizard of Ahhh Shit Jean is being Jean. Therefore he should probably be shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people!  
> I'm excited to have this chapter done- I almost caught up to my schedule again so posting should become less erratic for my side of the series. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter <3

November 15th

_I know I am dreaming. I know this place anywhere- the fucked up dream that doesn’t go away. I know this prison- the thin membrane of impenetrable material that keeps me trapped and breathless._

_“Jean” A voice sounds but I can’t tell where it comes from._

_My thoughts are tangled together- even in hearing my own voice in my head my under thoughts are scrambling through them making everything hazy. I’m drowning and I’m not at the same time and it’s fucking painful because the breath won’t come to my lungs and the weight of water is creating a tight pressure in my chest but I won’t fucking drown. I won’t slip into blackness._

_“Over here” I hear again. The voice is clearer this time-it’s someone that I know. The cloudy bubble like prison I’m trapped in ripples as I stretch towards a voice that’s never been in this dream before._

_The thick feeling of water pressing into my nose and running into my mouth becomes unbearable as I find the possibility of change within the dream._

_“...” I try and talk but I can’t find words that can combat my surroundings._

_“Jean” I hear again. This time I can see a hazy figure outside of the orb confining me. The image becomes clearer and I watch in fear- mesmerized by the sudden change. I die. I die in this dream._

_I am not dying._

_The figure raises its hand towards me- its  fingers pressing into the flesh of the orb- its fingers becoming gloved within it as it reaches for me._

♬

I startle awake as I hear a popping sound. My breath returns to me and my lungs no longer hurt. The fucking dream- I don’t have it often but when I have it I know what’s going to happen. I die in that dream. Always.

“Jean!” I hear a voice say and I realized I don’t have my eyes open, and my hands are clenched in the sheets of my bed.

“Jean” This time I feel hands on my shoulder as my name is called. I force myself to open my eyes and Hitch is standing, in  a pajama top and shorts and a tangle of bedhead, looking concerned.

“I didn’t mean to-” She trails off, looking down at the nerf gun in her hand. The popping noise. Jesus.

“It’s fine Hitch. I’ll be down in a few minutes” I say sitting up, because I need a second alone.

Hitch throws her arms around my shoulders and hugs me quickly before leaving me.

The alarm goes off, and the chiming of my phone startles me. I need more sleep- better sleep.

I find the several nerf gun bullets that Hitch shot at me and can’t help but laugh. Because it’s so her. She scared the shit out of me- not that I would ever tell her that- but finding these here meant that she was still here with me. Safe.

I hear a shriek from downstairs and immediately bolt out of bed. What the fuck is going on this morning?

“Fuck!” Hitch says shaking her hand violently in the air.

“Whats wrong?” I hear myself shout. I’m not thinking- this is autopilot.

“I-I” She says stammering because tears are running down her face. “I- burned my hand” she says right as I connect the dots for myself. He hand, the electrical stove top lit up to signal its not.

“Come here” I say tiredly walking over the sink and letting the water run cold. When she comes closer i pull her by the wrist and run her hand under the faucet.

“What were you doing?” I ask- because this should be good.

“Pancakes” She says, leaning her face onto my chest.

“Jesus Christ Hitch” she just groans in response and I leave her to stand by the sink while I find the first aid kit that is somewhere. In one of the boxes.

“I’m sorry” I hear her call. “It really hurts” she adds a moment later.

“You aren’t allowed to use the stove anymore” I retort.

“I’m fifteen!” She yells back.

“You don’t know how to not burn yourself on an electrical stove” I say. And thank fuck- here are the bandages. I walk back over to her and she still has her finger under the tap.

“Shut up. It was an accident”

“Sure” I say beginning to wrap her finger in a small band aid.

“Hey this could be a serious injury” She says, looking up at me with a smirk on her face.

“Oh yeah, you should stay home from the party tonight then. Could be very serious” I respond jokingly. She’s such a little shit sometimes.

She punches me in response and winces as her finger that I just wrapped slaps into my arm.

“You are so dumb sometimes” I say. She makes a face at me.

“ Will you make me pancakes?” She asks, looking towards the disastrous counter where flour and various other ingredients are strewn about.

“Go get ready for the play. You are getting a ride from Marlowe right?” I ask. I internally groan as I look towards the mess in the kitchen that I am now cleaning up. Fuck this.

“Yup. I’ll see you there right?”

“Wouldn’t miss you in a poofy dress for the world. I’m bringing my camera” I say with a laugh. Blackmail is the best.

“I hate you” She mutters, walking towards the stairs.

“Naw, you love me” I say, grinning widely at her.

♬

I’ve been back at the high school so many times now that the security guards don’t even bat an eye at me- which is kind of great because I don’t want to stop and talk to anyone when I’m balancing eight trays of brownies, rice krispies and cookies in my hands.

When I approach the music room I stop outside the room because I can hear Marco and he’s signing- and its probably the best thing thats happened all day. I want to listen longer but the weight of baked goods begins to exceed my will so I kick the door softly, hoping that it sounded enough like a knock.

“Hey~” Marco says taking some of the pans off of me and thank fuck too because brownies were starting to weigh a lot more than I expected him to and the last thing that I need right now is to drop shit everywhere. Marco thinks I’m clumsy enough as it is. Which is completely inaccurate.

“Hey” I say back, my face automatically pulls into a smile around him. “Thanks... Where do you want me to put these?”

“Just on my desk for now, I still gotta go get a table from the cafeteria to use.” Marco responds taking the pans he relieved me of and putting them on the desk. I’m not paying attention to the way he bends over slightly to move papers off the surface. Not at all.

I walk over next to him and drop off my pans, thanking whatever twisted lord who is looking out for me that I can take off my winter coat. Fuck winter.

“You want me to grab the table?” I ask, because for some reason I still knew exactly where the cafeteria was and I could probably still break into the closet if I needed to.

“Nah, I got it- You can just wait here for a minute.” Marco says smiling at me. Part of me wants Marco to never smile again because the way that my heart seems to jump twenty feet out of my chest when he does is annoying but more than anything I really want to make Marco happy. Which could totally be a friend thing.

I barely manage to strip off all my winter layers and decompress from holding so many fucking baked goods before Marco is back- stepping through the door to his classroom and startling me.

“So what do you think... fifty cents too cheap?” He asks me. It takes me a minute to connect what he was talking about. Bake sale prices, right. Thats why we are here.

“Make it a dollar- it’s easy change.” I say- fifty cents is such a cop out when majority of people won’t care to pay a dollar especially for a school and especially when they don’t have to wait to get two quarter backs. Plus he’ll make double the money.

Marco smiles again- and fuck me that might be one of my new favorite things because his eyes light up when he smiles and-

“Alright! Thanks again, for bringing everything.” he says cutting off my line of thought.

“All in a days work- it’s hard being so amazing sometimes” I say jokingly.

Marco rolls his eyes at me and nudges his elbow into my side which makes me laugh because its an action that reminds me so much of Hitch that I have restrain myself from catching him before he can walk away and tickling the living shit out of him like I would do to Hitch.

“So you ready for the show? Hitch was over at a friend's house practicing last night so hopefully that means they’ve been making an effort, right?” I ask him as he sits down.

“Hopefully. I’m really looking forward to seeing if they enjoy themselves. Makes me miss theater classes .”

Makes me miss theater classes...  my brain spirals as I think back to my one drama elective that I had to take when I was a sophomore in college. We had to put on the production of Hair and although I just managed some lights shit and moved set pieces around, I remember enough to know that I stared at way too many naked people that semester. My mind begins to fill in the blanks of Marco’s theater experience with my own and  whether or not he had ever been naked for theater or...

I hear myself make a pathetic noise at the thought and fuck fuck fuck, Marco is in the fucking room with me so I cough to cover it up. Great. This is going well so far.

“Are you looking forward to it?” he asks ignoring me. Thank god.

I rip my mind away from the images of Marco naked and snap back to reality.

“...yeah” I say, answering his question before I remember what words are. “I’m excited to see Hitch. However she does hate that I get to see her in a poofy sparkly dress. The pictures will be the best blackmail.” I say. I laugh because I plan on framing  a picture of Hitch in a dress and placing it right by the front door for all to see.

“Oh come on now” he says covering up his laugh with a raised eyebrow.  “We don’t want her to be scarred from this.” he says.

“Aren’t you a big brother too?” I ask him. He should know the feeling of needing to torment younger siblings. Its the way of life. If I get woken up by multiple shots of a nerf gun slamming into me, then Hitch gets embarrassing pictures hung up.  Quid pro quo.  

Marco scratches the back of his neck and I don’t look at the way that his body moves. I try not to look. He is my friend. That is the mantra.

“Yes but my students carry a whole different set of responsibilities that I don’t mix with sibling treatment” he says, his face scrunching up a bit.

“Very professional... so what do I need to do?” I say looking over at him- I don’t want to distract him from work that he needs to be doing.

“Nothing much at the moment...I need you to see to these once families start arriving and taking their seats since I’ll be in the back once the kids get here.” He says, looking at me like he’s worried I would back out.

“Got it- Maybe I’ll be PTA president by the end of this shit” I say to lighten the mood for him.

“I don’t think things run that way.” Marco smiles at the thought and nudges my feet off the table from where I kicked them off.

“We’ll see” I say, grinning at him widely before adding “Anyways mom’s dig me so I think I can control the parent side of things” because I like to see him blush.

“You gonna charm them into buying all the baked goods?” Marco says obviously teasing me from the amusement in his voice. Asshole.

“Oh yeah... I’m a master of seduction” I say raising my eyebrow at him.  My reward is him rolling his eyes at me.

“Sure. You go and seduce older woman with your brownies” he responds.

“Yes sir” I say, raising my hand in a mock salute to him.

“That is a very poor salute” He says under his laughter.

“What about this one?” I ask before flipping him off because he totally asked for this to happen. I wink at him and smile in amusement when he dismisses my gesture with the shake of his head.

Marco leans away from me, relaxing into his chair and it’s when he runs his hand up and down his arms my eyes are drawn to the long red scratches covering his arms.

“Dude” I say getting his attention,  because what the fuck happened to him.

“What?” he asks, his head tilting in confusion. I point to his arms.

“Is there a reason you look like you got in a fight with a paper shredder?” I ask him.

He laughs- because of course he wouldn’t see this as concerning.

“Tuff got her nails caught in my blankets this morning so I had the joyous task of trimming them.” he says- the cat. Oh my fucking god. Add that to another reason that Hitch can’t have a cat- not only am I allergic and I would walk around looking high all the time but I’m not about getting scratched when I’m trying to help an animal.

“Jesus” I say because there aren’t any words for this. “Did you at least disinfect them?” I ask.

“Yes mom I know how to treat cuts” he says, rolling his eyes at me. Funny, no ones ever called me mom before- I’m hardly the type to care- although neither was my own mother so...

I flip him off again before repeating a sentiment my dad use to say to me when I got hurt, “Just want to make sure you aren’t gonna get an infection. Then we’d have to cut your arm off.”

“So...I would have no arms then?” he says.

“Naww. You could have super cool robot arms- you could be like robocop, except a teacher” I say. I always imagined when I was a kid that if I ever had to lose a limb I would want a robotic replacement because robots were cool. Plus chicks dig scars- not that I’m aiming for chicks anymore...

Marco smiles tightly and I can tell something is wrong but I don’t know what it is. “Having robot arms doesn’t sound very fun... and it’s very unrealistic.” he says.

“But you could have lasers” I say.

“Unrealistic” he says, his voice faltering a bit. I don’t know what’s wrong but it’s probably time to end the conversation because there is something he isn’t telling me. I fight the urge to ask him what’s going on.

I turn to my phone- which is why technology is the fucking best- great way to divert awkward conversations.

“You have a facebook?” I say looking back up to Marco, wanting to post a picture of the brownies that I took last night.

He just shakes his head no and I can’t even act surprised.

“Why do I feel like you are secretly fifty” I say. I swear he probably spends his night knitting and playing with his cat.

“Maybe I just have simple pleasures” he says with a shrug. I swear Marco shouldn’t be allowed to say pleasure because my mind tries to spiral into dark places/

“Guess so- I guess I can survive without tagging you in this picture” I say collecting myself. I set my phone down on the table before asking him “what time do the kids get here?”

“Closer to 4:00.. 4:10?.. sorry I made you come so early-” he says and I’m tempted to say that he never has to apologize for having me come but I don’t think he’s ready for that brand of humor.

“No big deal- China isn’t up anyways” I say instead, settling for one version of the truth. “Do whatever you would normally do, I have candy crush or whatever bullshit game Hitch downloaded onto my phone.” I add on.

“Well... alright.” He says in a low voice like he’s considering something. I pick up my game and get absorbed into beating the level that I’ve been stuck on for the past few days. I don’t get far because that shit is hard and frustrating and Marco starts running his hands across the piano. He plays scales and randomly tests out keys and it sounds so great that it takes me a minute to realize he isn’t just playing a song- which leaves me feeling dumb when he actually starts to play the tune to Paradise which I immediately recognize because Hitch plays it in the car all the time when she’s being melodramatic. I abandon all hope of pretending I’m not blatantly watching his, not knowing if he would appreciate an audience.

“Uh-” he says when he finishes playing and realizes that I was watching him which I hadn’t planned on making obvious.

“That was fucking amazing” I tell him. “Like seriously” I add because he seems like a person that doesn’t let people acknowledge his talent.

“I...finally got to use this old thing” he says, scratching the back of his neck. As he passes me, moving from the piano to his desk he flicks my head which stuns me because he’s beginning to get more comfortable with me after I was so blunt the first time we met.

“Like I said, simple pleasures” he reminds me. He is so lame, but he wears it so well.

“Well...I guess we can go set up?” he says but it comes out as a question.

“Sounds good” I say read beginning to unwrap some of the brownie tins while Marco unpacks the rice krispies.

“Thanks so much for helping again” he says as he leaves the room with the baked goods.

“It’s no big deal” I manage to say before he’s completely out of earshot. When he comes back I have all the brownies ready to be brought out to the table and we carry it out to the hall. I grab a box I can use for donations and change as well because I plan on making as much money as possible.

“What else?” I ask Marco as we stand in front of the table looking at the set up.

“Uh...nothing els-” He begins to say before his name is called from down the hall, a handful of students walking up to him. I retreat to behind the table, beginning to unpack the cookies I made for the students at Hitches request so that I can let Marco decide whether he wants to give the devil children sugar before or after the performance.

The student’s talk animatedly to him for a while and I really don’t pay much attention but figure I should mention the cookies so that he doesn’t have to think about it later. “Oh hey. Marco... I made these for the students. Chocolate chip.” I call out to him.

The students seem excited- of course they are... it’s fucking sugar. It’s like giving meth to meth heads. Marco’s eyes widen before turning back around to address the students.

“Go on back and start getting ready. I’ll be back there in a minute. Tell the others who arrive that you guys get cookies after the show.” I hear him to say.

He walks up to me and takes the tin of cookies from me, “You’re full of surprises. Thank you for that. I’m sure it will motivate them.” I want to shake him and tell him not to thank me but instead I just roll my eyes.

“I had extra ingredients” I say simply.

Marco pokes me in the side and I internally die a little bit because it’s the third times he’s touched me today and I welcome it but it surprises me.

“Still you took the time to make them.” he says. I can’t find words that wouldn’t end badly so I let him continue to say, “Can you manage till the show starts at 5:00? Then you can pack things up and come watch Hitch. I have to go help.”

“I think I can manage” I say- because it’s parents, not hyenas.

“But here try this” I say holding out a brownie to him because he should at least get to try them before they are all gone. But instead of taking it, Marco leans forward and lets me feed him the brownie and I swear to fucking god he’s trying to kill me.

“Oh man-” Marco says in an ungodly tone before cutting off and saying “That’s so good! Perfect brownies” he finishes.

I smile to cover up all of my thoughts and choke out a “Go break a leg”

“Sure sure~” he says, turning to walk towards the theater and disappearing.

I have about twenty minutes of peace before the parents- who actually are hyenas- ascend from whatever hell hole they come from and are asking me a shit ton of questions about the nature of the brownies. Are they vegan? Nope. Are they sugar free? No it’s a fucking school bake sale. Are they organic? Yeah sure. Despite the plethora of dumb questions I reluctantly answer I actually makes sales to parents and bratty kids alike and the donation bucket fills up. So there are small miracles- including the miracle that I didn’t off myself dealing with every annoying ass parent who thought they could do a better job than me but didn’t volunteer.

“Hello” I hear behind me and feel my shoulder being touched. I turn around to see a blonde woman, who while looking completely....nice... has crazy eyes and looks to be about ten years older than me.

“Did you make all these” she asks, looking me up and down. Fuck. One of these parents.

“I did. For the kids.” I say laughing softly.

“I’ll take one then” She says and handing me a twenty. I grab her a brownie and make change for her.

“Oh you can keep the change” She says and winks at me. What the fuck is happening.

“The theater department appreciates it” I respond putting the money in the donations box. I turn back to her and she’s making a borderline orgasmic noise as she bites into it- which makes me want to laugh hysterically because she’s really barking up the wrong tree right now.

“I’m glad you enjoy it” I say, throwing a grin at her because I can’t resist myself.

“These brownies aren’t the only sweet thing around here.” She says giving me a pointed look.

“Well no, there are rice krispies and cookies that another parent brought” I say jokingly.

She laughs at my joke and slips me a business card which I take because it’s easier then refusing it but can’t help but thank god for when a kid with braces appears announcing that everyone can take their seats.  

“I’m Nicole” The woman says, her eyes fixated on me.

“Jean.” I say. “It was a pleasure meeting you Nicole but I have to get this packed away.” I add, picking up the cash box and some of the empty trays nodding my head to her in goodbye.

By the time I slip into my seat that Hitch had taped off for me Marco is on the stage introducing the show.

“...tonight is about my wonderful students who are putting this show on for you. All I did was get things started and get scratched up by my cat” he says into the microphone, holding up his arms. I laugh because he’s a dork.

“So enjoy the show everyone!” he says before disappearing.

The show goes a lot better than I thought- they slipped up but I mean it’s a bunch of high school student actually function fairly well together so it was surprising. But the songs were really good and it was really nostalgic because I know way too many words from The Wizard of OZ considering it was Hitch’s favorite movie as a kid. When it’s over I decide to hang around- planning on helping Marco clean up since Hitch has her party to go to.

“I enjoyed the show, it was really well put together- you could tell they actually care” I say walking up behind Marco hoping that he is happy about how it turned out.

He smiles at me brightly and it feels infectious, “Did we break enough legs out there?” he asks.

“I would say you did” I say, I can feel myself grinning at him and I hope I don’t look like a complete fucking idiot.

“Thats good” he says. Before I can say anything I hear the laughter and voices of students, followed by the actual students who proceed to attack Marco in a fit of hugs which brings him to the floor. I can’t help but laugh and snap a few pictures, because blackmail. Plus it will make a great addition to all the other photos of the show I took for him. Fuck I’m beginning to sound like such a parent- I took pictures of a school musical.

“Oh my god Jean!” I hear from beneath the pile “Don’t take pictures” he whines. The students begin to disperse, high fiving at their sucess of taking down Marco.

“Blackmail” Is all I say to him... which reminds me... “speaking of which, where the hell is Hitch?” I ask, more to myself than anyone else.

“She wasn’t in the mob was she?” Marco asks.

Before I can respond, my phone chimes.

**-Image attachment-**

I laugh as I look at a photo that someone obviously took of Hitch- who stuck in her Good Witch dress, her arms tangles in a fit of taffeta.

“No- she’s stuck in her dress. I’m assuming that she will make her grand appearance in a minute” I tell Marco who is still laying on the floor.

He decides to sit up and roll his shoulders. His hair is all sorts of fucked up but he looks really hot and  I’m trying really hard to ignore him.

“She did a really wonderful job” he says.

“Yea..” I say. I can’t help but feel a stinging in my gut. She was great but it was painfully obvious how much she had grown up since I left for college.

I shake off the feeling and ask Marco, “So- do you want help cleaning up?”

He looks really fucking confused and stands up, “Hitch will probably want to go home, and you’ve done enough. So I got it.” He says.

“Hitch is only coming out to hand me her bag of crap-I’m letting her go the after party” I say, rolling my eyes as hard as I possibly can because teenagers fucking suck- I don’t care if I was one only six years ago.

“Well... That’s up to you whether you want to stay or not.”he says. I’m about to tell him that of course I’ll stay but I see his eyes light up as something obviously pops into his head.

“Oh! How did the sales do?” He asks curiously.

“We sold everything and made about one hundred and then with donations it came out to be around three hundred” I tell him, taking the money out of my bag. His jaw drops and I can’t help but laugh because I know I probably made more money than most would have but I fucking work with money for a living.

“I- How?! How on earth did we get donations? I don't think I put a sign out?” He says looking at me like I’ve performed some miracle.

“I put a box out. Parents eat that shit up. Plus I put cash in the box to make it look like other parents were donating. Then everyone was like I need to donate so I look like a good parent too.” I slip into mocking the high pitched voices of annoying mothers who seemed to fight their battles in passive aggressive remarks on the bake sale floor.

Marco laughs at me and says “You are sly” while leaning over to pick up some dropped pamphlets. “Also keep thirty for the ingredients.. okay?”  

I set my shit down on a chair so that I can help him. “Not a chance in hell Bodt.” I say beginning to grab the trash that all the inconsiderate motherfuckers left everywhere.

“Fine- What can I do to make it up to you then” He says. It takes everything I have not to crack an extremely inappropriate joke.

“I’ll let you know when I decide” I say, which is still enough to make him blush. Perfect.

“....I’ve made a mistake...haven’t I?” He says.

“Don’t make deals with the devil” I say. I roll my eyes at him but he just shoots me a knowing look. Fuck.

“I thought I was making a deal with a horse?” he says. I can tell he’s proud of himself but I can’t fucking believe that he remembered that! Fucking Hitch.

“You’re an ass” I say with a huff- I can’t pretend to be mad for long because it’s fucking hilarious- and laughter breaks through.

Marco laughs too before looking me dead in the eye and saying “I don’t think that’s your breed.”

Another horse joke. Another one. Oh my Jesus Christ. I step closer to him and back him up against a seat so he can’t escape when I slap him jokingly on the head with the discarded programs I had been picking up.

He furrows his eyebrows and seems to try and fight laughing “Trying to give me a papercut?” he asks.

Marco jumps out of his skin a bit when Hitch bursts through the auditorium doors. I instinctively step back from him and turn to give Hitch my full attention.

“Bro!” She says, she’s holding her bags out to me and grinning widely. Hitch is devious.

“I feel like I’ve been demoted- from brother to bag bitch in all but three seconds” I tell her.

“I love you?” she say sarcastically and I realize how much we are alike.

“Yea, sure you do.” She’s a pain in the ass but I love her. I ruffle her hair because she deserves it but she looks horrified at me.

“Stop it Jean. I’m going to a party” She says. Right. The party.

“Whatever- You remember what I said?” I ask her and of fucking course I should expect she’s going to give me a smart ass answer. I can tell from the devil grin that appears on her face that I’ve dug myself into a seven foot hole.

“No drinking, no smoking- of any kind- and no sex... with a condom” She says repeating my fuck up from early. I meant no sex. And no condoms. But no sex with or without a condom. Jesus.

“Oh my fucking god Hitch. I will drag you home” I tell her. Before I can say anything else I hear Marco take a deep breath from behind me. I forgot he was here- and that he just heard my great advice to my fifteen year old sister.

“Hey Hitch” he says.

Hitch doesn’t bat an eye at him being there and says “Hey Mr. Bodt” before looking back at me, “Anyways, I’m leaving and I’m going to sleepover after so don’t wait up.”

“Text me sometime tonight then” I say, being as casual as I can.

“Okay, fine. Keep each other company.” She says and she fucking gives me a pointed look, letting me see her gaze shift between me and Marco and I swear to god I might murder her- ground her? She runs off before I can say anything else which is probably good since it sure as hell would have been more colorful than Marco would approve of.

“I hate kids” I say, grabbing some more trash from the floor and dumping it in one of the giant trash cans.

“You hate teenagers” He responds- laughing at my pain.

“She drives me crazy”

“She’s a good kid though” Marco say, smiling at me.

“I love her so...” I begin before trailing off because he probably doesn’t want to hear about it. “What’s left to do?” I ask him instead.

“Uhh.. nothing I guess” he says looking around the room awkwardly.

“Are you going home now...or...” I ask, because I want to hang out with him but I feel like I’m monopolizing his time or something.

He shrugs at me and says “It’s the weekend so... I have nothing””

“Do you want to hang out?” I ask again. I still expect him to say no for some reason.

“Sure, got something in mind?” He says and even though I can have hope I don’t think that even he is oblivious enough to not see how thrown off guard I am. Shit I hadn’t plan this far.

“There’s a bowling alley down the street?” I say because its the only thing that I can think of thats nearby and he won’t have to walk a super long way back from because I know he won’t let me drive him. Only fucking god know why he won’t let me drive him places but whatever.

“Sounds fun” he responds and smiles at me. I follow him as he walks to classroom keeping my eyes trained on the back of his head rather than his ass. Which is very tempting. Fuck.

“We can actually walk from here- but you can put your shit in my car if you don’t want to drag it around” I say. Marco looks content with the plan so I feel like I’ve finally done something right. It’s a fucking miracle.

“I can bring it with me, there’s just some papers in my bag” he says. Marco takes off his tie and I die a little bit because I should not be thinking the thoughts that I am- fuck me. Literally fuck me.

I stare at him for a dumb insurmountable amount of time because Marco has his coat on and is asking me if I’m ready to go next time I step back into reality.

“Yup” I say. We exit the school and walk side by side on the street. He doesn’t talk but pulls his beanie low down on his head which reminds me how fucking cold it is.

“I hate the cold” I hear myself say.

“You could’ve drove” Marco says looking at me. He doesn’t say we. Why in the world does he love walking so much?

“Driving is a pain in the ass for such a short distance” I explain- I really don’t mind driving but I hate parking. I instinctively grab a cigarette from the pack in my coat pocket and bring it to my lips before I remember that Marco hasn’t seen me smoke and probably doesn’t like smoking that much in general. Shit I need nicotine. I ignore the addict inside of me and slip it back away hoping he didn’t notice.

“Yea but it’s warmer” he says which is true. But it doesn’t matter.

“We could run” I suggest sarcastically. I have about a dozen other ways we could warm up but something about Marco makes me rethink my inappropriate humor.

“Yea- I don't think so” Marco says and I laugh because I feel like his answer would be the same no matter what suggestion I posed.

♬

I fucking hate bowling. It’s a shitty ass sport.

“Fuck” another god damn gutter ball. It’s the fucking end of the game and my score is eighteen.

“You know...I figured you would be good at bowling since you were the one who suggested it” Marco says from behind me.

“I haven’t bowled in years” I say. I slump into my seat and I know I’m acting pissy but it’s so fucking annoying.

“I’m not much better either” Marco says as he bowl and hits pins- which is already a fuck ton better than I’m doing.

“At least you got pins- although if I was bowling with Hitch of Connie there would be so many fucking jokes about me not being able to handle my balls” I say.

He fails at not laughing at me and says “Sorry my jokes are mediocre as it is, otherwise I would try”

“Well thank fuck for something” I say more to myself than him.

Marco cheers as he takes his second turn and gets a spare- which at this point means his score is just so far ahead of mine I couldn’t catch up in three games, let alone a turn.

“You are kicking my ass” I groan and get up to take my turn. And of course- with as little effort as possible, when I roll the bowling ball down the lane it knocks down seven pins.

“You just gotta stop caring” Marco says smiling at me. “Maybe then you can beat me” he says. I know he’s joking so I flip him off before taking my next turn. I knock down two pins and I swear I’ve never hated something as much I hate the last motherfucking pin that stands at the end of the lane keeping me from my spare.

“I don’t think I’m going to beat you with three more turns left” I say before adding “But I can try”

He hums in amusement at me and moves to take his turn. He grabs the bowling ball with his right hand which he uses something but as far as I can tell he uses his left hand more. I see him wince and he drops the ball which rolls into the gutter. He tenses up and I see his arm go rigid.

“You okay?” I ask while he waits for his ball to return. He nods and takes his second turn with his left hand.

“Should I be worried about Hitch? At the party....” I ask all of a sudden. It’s not what I planned on saying but something about Marco makes him forget what I do and do not tell people.

He walks up close to me and for a second I think that he’s going to touch me but he doesn’t. “Are you worried?” he asks me instead.

“I don’t know” I say truthfully. Yes I’m worried but I don’t want to be but I need to be or maybe it’s the other way around. “I did so much stupid shit as a teenager”

I check my phone to see if she’s texted me- she hasn’t- of course.

“It’s ok to be worried” he says. “Do you want to text her really quickly.”

-You better not be dead-

-I’ll be pissed-

“I hate being responsible” I say as I send the texts to her.

“Someone has to be..” Marco says. I really want to respond telling him that maybe that should be my parents job but I stay quiet and take my turn instead.

“HA!” I yell in victory- a motherfucking strike. Take that Bodt. Well he’s still winning but fuck yeah.

“Finally” Marco says and I can’t resist walking up to him and poking in the side.

“You still won” I say.

“Don’t be a baby” he hums. I laugh because who the fuck says that.

“Don’t be a baby? Who even says that” I reiterate my thought out loud to him. “You are such a teacher.” I add.

“It’s the weekend, I’m not so much teacher right now... Are we heading back now?” He asks. I really want to say no because I actually like hanging out with him but it’s late and he’s Marco.

“If you want”

“It’ getting late” He says. “I should probably go and make sure Tuff is okay..” He adds on and I try not to laugh. Its not that he has a cat that he care’s about but more that it’s not the fucking first time I’ve been ditched for a cat- of course last time it was my girlfriend who ended up being more interested in having a girlfriend of her own that would share her lesbian cat obsession with her.

“Well at least I get to take these ugly ass shoes off my feet” I say ripping the gross bowling shoes off my feet and stepping back into my boots.

“Are you walking home from here?” I ask him. I assume he is because he’s him but I ask anyways.

He nods and instead of trying to fight him on it I offer to walk with him because it’s late and I don’t mind spending time with him.

He looks me dead in the eye and stares at me with a face I can’t even pretend I understand.

“How about just to your car? Since it’s on the way back” he offers instead as he puts his coat back on and sure why the fuck not.

“Sounds good”

When we walk outside the wind has picked up and I can feel my soul dying. Fuck Washington weather.

“I almost forgot how balls cold it would be outside” I say. It’s my default complaint.

“It’s not so bad once you get use to it” Marco says and I probably look at him like he said he skins cats for fun. I look at him like it’s the biggest fucking lie he’s ever told.

“Whatever you say man” I say pulling my scarf closer to me. We walk silently for a while and I can’t help but wonder how the fuck he isn’t busy on the weekends. Doesn’t he have people asking him out- like has he looked at himself in a mirror?

“What do you normally do on the weekend?” I ask him because curiosity gets the better of me.

“Umm... really nothing- Kinda lay around the house and catch up on sleep and finish whatever remaining  work I have” he says.

“Simple pleasures?” I ask him- because I realize he’s probably not the one to hang around bars and let people ask him out.

“Pretty much- How about you?” He asks. And fuck- I don’t know. I don’t really do anything in Trost.

“I don’t know, all the days blend together cause I work at home and I quit the bar scene so-” I trail off not wanting to get into why I’ve stopped partying and sleeping around with him. Not yet.

“Clean your house anymore?” he says smirking at me.

“I got my bookshelves up” Which is true and a fucking accomplishment since I have several.

“Got any books on it”

“...no"

“Jean. Clean your house” Marco says- Jesus he has the best disappointed face. I should be taking notes for like how to shame Hitch.

“Bossy” I retort because he is.

“I don’t think you can afford to lose any more glasses to your demon boxes” he says rolling his eyes at me.

“I’ll just switch to red solo cups” I say jokingly.

“So if you have a _girlfriend_ over you are gonna giver her a red solo cup.” He asks and I almost combust from holding in my laughter because oh my fuck is he dense? I asked him if he was single- that's a pretty fucking gay thing- it’s a pretty I’m interested in dating you thing to say.

“If I had a _boyfriend_ over I would hardly think that what kind of cup they used would be the focus of the night” I say making sure that I was smirking at him. He blushes but kicks me in the back of the leg.

“Unless they end up going to the hospital because you can’t clean up your- Cause you can’t clean up your shit” he curses. I laugh because MArco looks so damn proud of himself.

“Yes but if I clean up all of my ‘demon boxes’ then I ruin my fantasy of having sex on a pile of them” I say, purposefully waggling my eyebrows as I spout bullshit at him. He just stares at my eyebrows before making a face at me and pulling my hood hard over my face.

“Whatever man” He says picking up his strides trying to walk away from me. I shake my head because we are childish but I run to catch up with him and grab onto the back of his coat and dig my fingers into his sides- poking him. He manages to push a hand against my head making my beanie fall off my head into the back of my hood and messing up my hair. Before I can retaliate he slips out of his jacket and jogs to get away.

“Oh my god come back before you freeze your ass off” I call out to him because he already spends too much time in the cold- and it would be a shame for anything to happen to his ass.

He turns back to me and we walk towards each other- meeting somewhere in the middle of the distance that separated us. He sticks his tongue out at me when we are close enough for him to take his coat from me.

“You are such a fucking loser” I tell him.

He just smiles at me and we walk in silence until we reach the intersection where the school parking lot merges to the road.

“Goodnight Jean” Marco says, looking at me.

I want to say a shit ton of stuff but I settle on “Night Freckles.” and he just rolls his eyes at me before giving me a small wave and walking away.

That didn't go to bad.

**-Not dead <3-**

**-See you tomorrow... Dinner before I go back to mom and dads-**

**-I want Dairy Queen-**

I laugh as I read the text messages from Hitch happy that she actually texted me back, happy that she still likes Dairy Queen. Happy that she knows how to not make me freak out about sending her home. Thank god for Hitch. Thank fuck for Connie and Sasha and Marco. For people that actually care.  


	7. Sadnecessary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean learns that texting is better than nothing and Marco should stop saying goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter grew a mind of it's own and took me places I din't think I was going...  
> Oh and PencilOnly has told me to tell y'all that the new posting schedule is going to be every Fridays with the exception of Chapter 8 for Jean's POV because that coming sometime before Friday this week because I suck at time management but by the 23rd we should be back on track. 
> 
> stay awesome <3

 

November 16th - 2am

Buzzfeed is an evil place- a fucking evil place. And cats are way too entertaining for their own good- too bad I’m allergic as fuck. What feels like nine hours into work but is actually only five has lead me to know the result of way too many quizzes. I would be Regina George if I was a Mean Girl. Important information.

Shit I need more coffee. I’m so bored. I need more coffee and less work. On impulse I send Marco a gif of kittens rolling around on a floor because it reminds me of him- him and stupid way his face looks...cute...when he’s talking about Tuff. But in a friend way- because Marco wants to be friends. Shit. 2am is too early to thinking about this.

**-Dude… why are you sending me this at 2 am?-**

-I thought of you lol-

-you didn’t have to respond.-

Fuck- I forgot that he doesn’t have the same hours that I do. Why does he have his ringer on?

**-It woke me up. What am I gonna do? Put it back down?-**

**-Why are you up so early?-**

Why? Why am I up so early- probably something I should have thought about when I went into international trade. I drain the last bit of my coffee and head to the kitchen for another. None of the lights are on but I somehow manage to evade boxes and all the shit that trips me when people are around

-working lol-

-Sorry-

I text him back as I wait for a new coffee pot to brew. I saw Marco just a few hours ago but it’s not enough.

**-Go to bed. You need sleep-**

Yeah I fucking do- the whole show threw my sleep schedule off.

-It’s the middle of my work day.. What if I told you I go to bed at 2 pm-

**-That is a messed up sleep schedule-**

-It sucks-

**-clearly...I don’t know how you do it.-**

I know how I do it- caffeine and nicotine and sometimes alcohol. Fuck- I crave cigarettes- my hands itch towards the box I know is in my desk drawer but I can’t. I can’t bring myself to throw them away but I can’t smoke them. Hitch asked me not too and she has way too much power over me.  

-Ehh.. caffeine and nicotine-

-Hitch is making me quit tho-

Why am I telling Marco this? Especially at 2am...

**-good. That’s not healthy-**

Of course Marco would be on her side- of course he would be all about healthy. He just gives off mom vibes.

-yes mom-

Marco doesn’t respond immediately so I pour myself out more coffee into my travel thermos so I can take it with me back to hell, also referred to as my desk. I pour out the rest of the pot into my mug and sit on the counter- allowing myself to take a break as long as I was texting Marco.

**-Oh, so I’m the mom now?-**

Just as my phone chimes I realizes it’s after two in the morning and fuck, I’m keeping Marco up. As much as I want to talk to Marco all night long I feel bad.

-Go to sleep dork-

**-I’m awake now thanks to you-**

Shit. I am a terrible person who shouldn’t be allowed to hang out with nice people like Marco Bodt. I’ll just fuck it up.

-shit...I just thought you slept with your ringer off..-

**-Well. I usually don’t have friends who text me at all-**

**-Especially at 2am-**

I really want to ask him how the hell he doesn’t have friends that don’t want to talk to him all the time. But it’s fucking 2am and it’s probably curiosity thats way too revealing. Humor- that will go over better. Maybe.

-now you have me-

-lucky ;)-

**-Do I need to turn my ringer on silent from now on?-**

-I’ll try and refrain from texting you in the middle of the night-

**-lol it’s ok. If you get bored or anything I’ll be happy to keep you company if I wake up-**

Marco- fucking Marco- seems to know how to say exactly what pushes my buttons. He knows what to say to make my heart drop into my stomach. Instead of replying and risking saying anything dumb I send him a picture of a red panda that Hitch sent me a few days ago.

**-....why?-**

-because it’s cute-

-and all that shit-

Because it’s cute like you. Jesus. Friends. Me and Marco are friends.

**-do you always just look up pictures of cute animals?-**

-buzzfeed is distracting-

**-go back to work-**

-go back to sleep-

**-no promises-**

-alright man-

**-whatever-**

-Goodnight Marco-

I don’t really want him to go to sleep. But I have to work and he needs to sleep. I need to finish my coffee. I don’t need to date Marco- I’m in a committed relationship with caffeine and Marco needs someone better than me.

-you should go to sleep too-

-goodnight-

Here I go. Back to work- because I am the master of responsibilities.

♬

5pm-

I am  lame as fuck- macaroni and cheese on the couch has quickly become the highlight of my day. The chime of my phone’s ringer and the muffled vibration of the couch pulls me away from my completely riveting activity of staring at the wall- to tired to make an effort to do anything else after I spent the last two hours slowly beginning to unpack the living room and the second guest bedroom- which honestly felt ridiculous because why the fuck do I need a guest bedroom?

**-Hope you aren’t still sleeping-**

Marco’s text comes with a picture of Tuff- and man is she sort of fucking adorable- even if she would kill my sinuses.

**-thats adorable-**

-isn’t she tho?-

I can’t beat him with pictures of cute animals so maybe I can taunt him with food. I snap a picture of my mac and cheese to send to him.

**-not as cute as a cat-**

-nope-

-you unpack anymore?-

I’m actually excited about the fact that I can tell him I have- I have officially lost all my fucking marbles.

-yes as a matter of fact I have-

**-what then?-**

-living room and guest bedroom-

-the boxes are slowly disappearing-

**-that’s good.-**

**-Destroy that fantasy of yours-**

I feel my eyes blow wide and I text back something that's probably a little farther past the line of friendship then I mean too.

-I have other fantasies-

Jesus fucking christ- of course he brings up that. It should be illegal for Marco to say fantasies because my mind is reeling. The image of Marco and fucking fantasies.  The image of him twists up in my desire- him splayed out in my bed- letting me trail my hands all over his body. God he’s gotta have a great body-

"Don't fear! Hitch is here!" The sound of Hitch entering the house jars me back to reality- which is probably a good thing.

"There are more reasons to be scared when you are around then when you aren't" I call back hoping my voice doesn’t sound strained- there's for sure reason to be scared that one day she'll walk in and I'll be doing something less than savory.

Note to self: when siblings can appear at any moment, master bating on the couch isn't an option.

“That’s cause you’re a little bitch” Hitch responds, walking into the living room. I’m not a little bitch- teenagers are disturbing as fuck. My phone chimes and guilt washes over me again. Marco just wants to be friends and I’m a fucking idiot.

**-don’t start that again-**

Gladly. I will gladly stay away from any and all subjects of sex with Marco so I can stop rolling around in the fucking gutter.

-okay okay-

**-thank you-**

“I’m going to pour all your energy drinks in the toilet” I say throwing my head against the back of the couch looking at her upside down after I send a text back to Marco.

“yeah right. Who ‘ya texting?” she asks me.

“Mar-” I say before I realize she doesn’t need to know. Why does he have to be her teacher? “Um... no one...” I try. She rolls her eyes at me.

“Whatever. You two are ridiculous.” She says. I want to ask her what the fuck she means by that but she doesn't give me the time. “Why are you working out here?” She asks, pointing at the spreadsheets on my laptop balanced on my legs.

“Because I spend too much time in that fucking office” I say. My eyes automatically shift to the door in the corner of the room instinctively.

“You should quit” Hitch says, rolling over the top of the couch and plopping down next to me. “Just like you should quit smoking.”

“The world doesn’t work that way” I say as she ruffles my hair. “And I am quitting smoking” I add on quietly.

“You have to dye this” she says. Her train of thoughts seem to be all over the place- which means she trying not to say what she really wants to say.

“You have so many opinions today.” I say, ducking my head under her hand.

“Got to get them all out before I go back home” she mutters. I really want to throw my fucking laptop across the room. Fuck the fact that she wants to reclaim so sort of relationship with mom and dad. They are toxic miserable people.

“Don’t go back then” I say before I can stop myself. “You don’t have to”

“I want to” She says slumping against me. “I’ll be fine”

“I swear Hitch-” I begin but she slaps her hand over my mouth.

“Jean I will be fine. I have you here.” She says with a sigh. I want to cry. I won’t- not in front of her.

“Now come on you promised me Dairy Queen and I want you to take me to the parking lot and teach me how to drive.” she adds on taking her hand away from my face but still leaning on me. I say a silent prayer for my car because she’s gonna drive like she talks- a mile a minute.

“Dear lord please protect my car from the demonic spirit that possesses my sister” I say under my breath because I know Hitch will hate me for it- in the best way possible. She pinches my side and I stick my tongue out at her.

“Let’s gooooo-” She says hopping off the couch and pulling at my arm.

“Fine” I say rolling my eyes. I type out a message to Marco so that I can turn my phone off so i don’t get any business calls while I’m out with Hitch.

-I’m about to drive...ttyl-

**-be safe-**

-will do.-

-I’m taking Hitch to a parking lot to teach her how to drive so should be...interesting..-

**-Have fun with that-**

-Don’t tell me how to live my life ;)-

**-bye Jean-**

I think ‘bye jean’ has to be my least favorite phrase to come from Marco.

“Stop smiling into your phone like an idiot.” Hitch says. She’s slid her hoodie on and put a hat on over her short hair.

“Shut up” I mumble.

“This is going to be fun” She says grinning.

Fun. Yeah. My poor car.

♬

November 17th- 5pm

Another notebook from my teenage years will make me burn the entire house down- this is why I didn’t want to clean up. There is too much scary shit to go through and the second hand embarrassment of travelling down memory lane is scary enough. I text Marco on impulse.

-want to hang out?-

**-can’t. I’m getting some work done. Sorry.-**

Dammit.

-nbd-

**-another day-**

-Sounds good. :)-

Marco doesn't text back but before I can put my phone away a message from Connie's chimes in.

**-come 2 the restaurant tomorrow-**

**-i need you on brownie duty-**

-You dont need to make excuses just because you want to see my beautiful face-

**- <3 -**

-See you tomorrow Connie-

Great well that leaves me with plenty of time to relive high school though my stupid journals and school notebooks as I unpack the library.

♬  
  


November 18th - 2pm

“Hay! Horse Face has arrived!” Connie says as I walk through the door of the restaurant- and for the first time I see the name- it’s fucking called  The Impastas.

“Jesus Christ Connie. Shut up.” I mutter. There are a few people in the restaurant eating but for the most part Connie seems relatively undisturbed at his place behind the counter.

“Jean! Good you’re here.” I hear Sasha’s voice before I see her. Connie just grins at me so I know all of thi is Sasha’s plan. Whatever-it’s not like I have anything better to do.

“Try this. And take this.” She says ducking under the counter, balancing a spoon of mac and cheese in one hand and a whisk in the other.

“Umm-” I begin to say something but Sasha spoon feeds me the mac and cheese- and damn it’’s fucking delicious.  

“I need you to make brownies for the official launch of dinner service tomorrow night. Also that was bacon ranch mac and cheese- yay or neigh horse boy?” She says, staring at me expectantly. Jesus- I feel like I should be use to being around girls who talk a mile a minute since Hitch exists but Sasha gives her a run for the money.

“It’s really good. And exactly how many brownies am I making?”  I say, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Like maybe two hundred” She says smiling hopefully at me. “We will pay you!” She adds on.

“You don’t need to pay me Sasha- that’s ridiculous.” I say, I have nothing to do and baking isn’t a hardship- It’s something to take my mind off of Hitch, my parents, fucking Marco...

“Oh Jean I love you” Sasha proclaims bouncing forward and hugging me with the whisk still in her hand.

“Do I have to worried about this?” Connie asks, leaning across the counter.

“Oh honey, don’t you know I’ve always just wanted a pony..” She says, pulling away from me to look at Connie. I fucking hate Connie for starting this horse face shit again.

Connie bursts into laughter.

“I’m sorry Jean it’s just too easy.” She says, squeezing me again. “Now get cookin’ good lookin’” She adds on, swatting me with the whisk.

“She’s evil” I say to Connie as Sasha just laughs and pushes me towards the counter.

“That’s why I love her” He says with a grin.

♬

November 18th- 10pm

I’m pulled out of my sleep by a text message- from Marco.

**-life sucks-**

Well that’s one hell of a way to wake up- a million reason run through my head as to what could possibly make Marco text me that and every single one of them make me want to tell him that everything is going to be okay.

-? what happened?-

**-I can’t sleep and I have to get up butt early-**

-I just woke up-

-try hot tea?-

**-tried that before-**

**-and I can’t believe you just got up-**

Obviously he doesn’t understand my work schedule at all.

-I saw Sasha and Connie at lunch time and came home to sleep I before work-

**-so basically you took a nap?-**

-basically-  

**-aaah..-**

I don’t really know what to do with that... ‘aaah..’ but I want to keep talking to him.

-what about listening to music-

-to go to sleep-

**-I think that wakes me up more actually-**

Shit. He’s a music person- how the fuck did I forget...

-bath?-

**-already took one earlier-**

-count sheep?-

It’s the best suggestion I can think so- I’m good at staying awake. That’s where I have skills. I send him a gif of sheep jumping over fences because I am overly fucking invested. But he’s my friend. Friends send other friends while trying not to get boners thinking about them. Yup.

**-oh my god. You know what. Goodnight.-**

**-Have fun with work-**

-sure sure ;) -

**-bye-**

-night-

My phone automatically shuts off while I wait to see if Marco will respond and I’m left in the dark. Alone. Before my mind can wander anywhere- to my fucking frustration of Marco or to worrying about Hitch my phone cuts through the silence of the room-  my work alarm... great.

♬

November 19th- 11pm

**-Jean! I really can’t thank you enough for the brownies they were such a hit, I’m sorry that we didn’t get to stop by and talk to you and Hitch tonight-**

Sasha’s text buzzes on my phone and I swear I stop breathing for a fucking second- I swear I put my phone on do not disturb. Fuck 11pm memory.

-lol sash its no problem... Hitch loves the restaurant so if you ever need an extra server...-

I hear myself laugh aloud as I remember how enamored Hitch had been with the restaurant at dinner. At first I thought she was just happy to not be having dinner with our parents but she was scarily in love with the restaurant- and the food- and the decorations.

**-oooo! Good. I’ll talk to connie.-**

-thanks sasha.-

-make sure you make her work to get the job tho-

**-will do captain :)-**

**-don’t work to hard. Connie says hi & bye and to tell china guten tag-**

-thats german-

-he’s dumb-

**-I know. Now go back to work so you can hit the hay ;)-**

-goodnight sasha-

She doesn’t respond after that. Its weird to have friends- how the fuck did I make friends. How the fuck is Trost turning out to be less shitty than I thought it would be.

♬

November 20th- 5PM

“Jean will you drive me home tonight” Hitch yells up from the basement where she’s sprawled out with a shit ton of homework, and the first season of weird ass cartoon that is totally meant for stoned people.

“No. You have to walk both way uphill in the snow like I had to when I was young.” I call back- because seriously, did she think I was going to let her walk home from here?

“K gramps.” She yells back. Fucking teenagers man. My phone buzzes in my back pocket before I can respond.

**-guess what?-**

-hmmmm?-

**-I’m craving your brownies and it’s all your fault-**

For some reason Marco saying he craves my brownies gets short circuited in my brain and affects me in the same way him saying ‘I crave you’ would. Dear lord why?

-I have ingredients-

**-ooooof course you do-**

-want me to bring you some lol-

**-no, that’s ok-**

-lame-

**-I know-**

Well if I can’t satisfy him, I might as well taunt him.

“Hitch you wanna make brownies?” I call out to her.

“Fuck yeah!” She yells back and it takes all of three seconds for my to hear a thud and the sound of her bounding up the stairs. I get the mixing bowls out and snap a picture, sending it to Marco.

-now I’m making brownies-

-Hitch wants them lol-

“Hey you offered!” Hitch says, coming up behind me and obviously reading over my shoulder.

“Shut up and stop being nosey” I say automatically.

“So are you and Marco dating?” She asks, walking around to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island.

“Nope” I say.

“But you want to date him” She says, narrowing her eyes at me.

“I want him to stick around” I say. It’s not a lie.

“fair enough” she says. Something about the way she say it terrifies me, because teenage girls are scary.

“Hitch don’t do anything.” I say.

She makes a gesture that I think is suppose to communicate ‘my lips are sealed’ and goes the the refrigerator to start pulling out ingredients. Shit.

**-lol have fun with that-**

-let’s hope I don’t burn the house down-

**-waste all your hard work putting things away-**

-but then I’ll get more boxes-

**\- you don’t need more boxes-**

-but then cats would love me-

Cat’s would love me but I would probably be dead from my allergies.

 **-yes. but one can only have so many boxes-** **  
**

-that’s what you think-

**-I’m not wrong-**

-that’s what you think-

**-dork-**

“Hey love butt wanna stop texting your girlfriend and come actually help me” Hitch says pulling me away from my phone.

“There is so much wrong with what you just said.” I mutter.

“Yeah whatever.” Hitch says rolling her eyes. “now what the fuck goes in here because I don’t know why you can’t just use a box mix”

“Because box mixes suck” I say purposefully rolling my eyes back at her.

“You are really gay sometimes” She says grinning at me.

“You don’t know the half of it” I say, smirking. She grimaces and I admit that I totally feel successful.

I direct Hitch in mixing the brownies and sort of tune out a bit so that I can live through the fact that Hitch is murdering my whisk and desecrating my kitchen.

“This good?” She says raising the whisk out of the bowl.

“Probably” I shrug, taking a picture of the mixture and sending it to Marco.

-chocolatey goodness-

“You two are disgustingly into each other” Hitch says.

I shush her because we really don’t need to talk about it- instead I check my phone.

**-You’re evil-**

I send him a shit ton of devil emojis in response because he's not wrong. 

**-gotta go now. See you-**

-see you.-

When I put my phone in my back pocket Hitch is just staring at me.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re dumb” She says.

I stick my tongue out at her and she cracks a smile at me.

“So mom quit drinking- she says it’s for me but I think she’s cheating on dad and needs to be more sober to pull it off.. but hey... whatever works” She say. I know it hurts her but I also know she hasn’t gotten her hopes up- at least not to much.

“Bill from accounting” I as because mom has mentioned him several times since I’ve moved back.

“Bill from accounting” Hitch repeats in confirmation.

“They are idiots”

“Yeah” She agrees, pouring the brownies into a greased pan.

“What about dad?” I ask, saying a silent prayer that he’s not acting anything like he use to act when I was her age. My bones ache thinking about it.

“He’s been dad” I feel repulsed because he’s the fucking worst father but I know that the ‘dad’ that she knows is not the same ‘dad’ that I know.

“He’s leaving for a business trip tomorrow” She tacks on before attacking the brownie spoon.

“Joy” I mutter.

“Yup” She say in agreement. “thanks for coming back” she says after a few moments of silence.

“I’m sorry we have shitty parents” I say while putting the brownies in the oven- It’s all I can think to say without getting too sentimental.

“Good thing I have a pretty cool brother. Even if he is a dumb jackass ninety-nine percent of the time” She says grinning at me when I turn from putting the brownies in the oven.

“Love you too” I say rolling my eyes at her. So much for not getting sentimental.

♬

November 21st- 7am

My phone buzzes on the wood of the night stand- it's fucking 7am. Why would someone be texting me- which is probably how Marco feels when I text him at 2am. Shit.

**-come to the restaurant tonight ❤️❤️-**

Connies text makes no sense until I realize that yes, he owns a restaurant, and we are adults. Being back home is fucking with my mind. I text him back- at least he's use to my texting when I'm half coherent.

-you woke me up. I've been working all night-

His reply comes almost instantaneously.

**-sorry horse face. Turn your ringer off tho. Now sleep my pretty princess-**

I swear to god if Hitch, Marco or Sasha start calling me pretty princess I will lose my shit.

-I will stab you-

**-see you later today. Sash says bring the guy you are drooling over if you want-**

Marco. Sasha might be the death of me. I know she's talking about Marco- but I'm not drooling over him. He's a friend... An attractive one. But a friend and my sisters teacher. I text him anyway because he probably would like Sasha and Connie's restaurant.

\- I am going to my friend’s restaurant tonight.. Wondering if you want to come?-

The text back surprises me until I remember that he's a fucking teacher and they have to wake up early as shit.

**-Sorry. Would like to but I already got plans with someone-**

I'm ignoring the way that I huff in disappointment and send him a quick text. I need sleep.

-It’s cool. have fun.-

**-you too-**

My fingers itch to text back I won’t have as much fun without you.

♬

November 21st- 4pm

“Ahh it’s my favorite customer” Sasha says walking up to the booth that I sat at. “But where the bae?” she adds, glancing at the empty seats next to and across from me.

“Sasha you are too old to say bae” I tell her- because seriously, Hitch says bae and it sounds dumb.

“You're too hung up on that guy to not be dating him.” She says.

“His name is Marco- and we are just friends. I regret telling you or Connie anything.” I say. I can hear myself grumbling.

“Yeah yeah whatever- you don’t have to tell us shit consider lovesick is written all over that pretty little face of yours.” Sasha says with a laugh. I’m glad I’m amusing to her.

“Now, do you have something in mind or do you just want to bring stuff out?” She says before I can make a comment.

“Surprise me Sash” I say- she’s grown on me, a lot. Connie’s lucky as hell to have found someone so great for me.

“That’s what I like to hear” She say, and begin to walk away. My eyes’s follow her because there’s nothing really else to do when you are sitting at a table by yourself.

Holy fucking god- it’s Marco. I’m pretty sure I look like an idiot with my jaw hanging open at a table by myself but fucking Marco and a blonde hair man are sitting at a table in the corner that Sasha is attending to. I slouch down in my seat, the vinyl of the booth squeaking embarrassingly.

Marco is sitting maybe thirty feet away from me, with a guy, smiling and talking animatedly. Holy shit- he’s on a date. I could go over there and talk to him but I can’t cock block him- that isn’t what friends do.

“Jean-” I hear a female voice say. “Jean”

I’m brought back to reality and yes I’m sitting in The Impastas - which is such a shitty name solely because it’s based on a pun- and Sasha is trying talk to me. Get it together.

“Sasha” I say.

“Jean, why are you hunched over like you’ve been shanked in the stomach and are trying not to bleed out?” She say, her eyes blown wide in concern.

“Marco is here.” I say, I automatically look in his direction.

Sasha puts a hand to her mouth and laughs. “Oh my god Jean! This is freaking hilarious”

“It’s not funny, it’s depressing” I say under my breath. “I’m going to go see if Connie needs help”

“Whatever you say pony boy” Sasha says patting me on the head. I duck a little under her hand but she persists. “Go be a baby”

“You are annoying” I mutter, pulling my hood up and getting up from the booth.

“Uh huh.”  Sasha hums.

♬

“Guys! Cheer, that was the last order of the night” Connie yells and the kitchen erupts in whoops and calls of celebration.

“Damn- this is crazy” I say leaning over to tell Connie.

“The kitchen is fun man” He says, taking a pause to run his knife across a piece of meat,  before adding “You should hangout more often- we’ll put you on pastry."

“I have a job” I tell him.

“Which I’m pretty sure everyone has told you that you should quit.” Connie says.

“Incoming!” Sasha’s voice appears out of nowhere behind me.

“Oh Jean!” She calls when she sees me “I gave Marco and his friend a complementary pie”

“Sasha! What the fuck?” Because the whole point of hiding in the kitchen like a bitch was so that Marco wouldn’t know I was here.

“It’s okay, I didn’t say anything and the look on his face was priceless.” She says. I look over at Connie- because backup man- and he just fucking laughs. I hate them all.

“Dude you are such a teenage girl about him” Connie says rolling his eyes when I hit him in the shoulder.

“Yeah yeah whatever” I say because it’s a lot easier to ignore him. “I should be going though, because I have a conference call tonight”

“You should quit” Sasha and Connie say at the same time.

“I know, I know.” I say, grabbing my shit and heading out.

“Get home safe” Sasha calls out.

“I will” I respond because Sasha is such a mom sometimes.

♬

November 22nd- 1AM

Fuck everything- especially my job from hell. I want to text Marco- considering almost the whole house is clean- I’ll just leave out the fact that instead of doing all my work I bailed from my desk after the conference and unpacked a bunch of shit.

-Guess who's house is gonna be clean ;)-

**-mine?-**

-Shut up. It's my house. -

**-haa. I know. That’s for waking me up at 1 am-**

-Sorry! Why do you sleep with your ringer on?! -

Shit. He should know better by now- or I should.

**-cause I forget I have a friend who is nocturnal!-**

-Just call me Dracula ;) -

**-Anyways. Congrats on finally cleaning up your boxes-**

-Poor boxes. They met their death. Hitch is gonna stomp the shit out of them. -

I laugh out loud because I remember how Hitch destroyed the bubble wrap the first week I moved in and we unpacked plates.

**-Nice.-**

-So yeah. I'll see you at 3 on Sunday right.-

**-I did agree to come, so yes. -**

-Haha okay cool. I'm grilling -

**-Isn’t it cold out though?-**

-Gloves.-

**-Whatever. Go to bed.-**

I really want to sleep but I need to finish my work that I bailed on.

-Middle of my work day. Picking up extra hours from what I missed last week. -

**-Jean- you can’t keep this up. It’s not healthy.-**

-Mhmmm whatever you say freckles-

**-whatever. See you Sunday?-**

-:) :) -

-...night-

**-Goodnight- good- work? day? whatever just- yea. night.-**

-You are cute when you're  flustered lol *diabolical laughter* -

**-i'm not flustered. I'm half asleep. -**

-Go to sleep loser. Find your other half-

**-bye-**

He should really stop saying goodbye.

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Rivers and Roads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is falling for Marco- or rather on top of him. Ice is not his friend.   
> Welcome to winter pony boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So surprise I'm late to post again.   
> Pro tip: College is hard. 
> 
> I actually ended up really happy with this chapter though so I'm glad I didn't rush it.   
> This chapter is dedicated to screeninthesky who is probably the perfect embodiment of Hitch. 
> 
> Also I have watched 24 despite my very lack luster descriptions. Yes Jack Bauer acts very Jack Bauer-y.
> 
> <3 enjoy people :)

November 23rd- 2PM

“How the fuck did you guys even get in here?” I say as calmly as I can considering my heart just skipped twelve beats because I walked down from my bedroom to find Connie and Sasha in my kitchen- cooking.  

“The spare key is taped to a rock” Connie says, staring at me blankly.

“Which is on your porch” Sasha finishes. “Why would you have a rock on your porch?”

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Before I got friends and all that bullshit.

“I hate you guys” I mutter.

“No you don’t. You love us because we are cooking and you are going to have so many great leftovers.” Sasha says, throwing a dry pasta noodle at me.

“I don’t know why I let you in my house.” I say jokingly. They are ridiculous but they are probably the only reason I’m surviving in Trost.

“You don’t let us in, you just hide your key shittily” Connie says, slicing through a potato.

“Whatever” I mumble. “I’m gonna light the grill”

“You gonna put a shirt on?” Sasha says, raising an eyebrow at me. Oh fuck- I was shirtless. God dammit.

“This is why you don’t just waltz in people’s houses” Sasha just laughs at me when I point this out to her.

“Whatever, go saddle up, so you can grill in the snowstorm like a real man” Connie chimes in.

“Fucking horse jokes- who even started that?” I ask him, because really, they started when I was thirteen and then Connie just perpetuated them.

“You did dipshit. You said, and I quote, ‘I need to piss like a racehorse’ one day and then you seabiscuit-ed out and everything changed.” Connie says rolling his eyes like this is obvious. I don’t remember what the fuck I ate yesterday let alone something that happened over ten years ago.

“I’m never talking again” I mutter, walking away. At least Sasha and Connie won’t destroy my kitchen or set anything on fire.

“That would be amazing” Connie calls out after me as my phone buzzes.

**-On my way, I think I remember the way to your house-**

I text Marco back my address.

“See Connie, Marco just gave me the heads up that he’s coming over- because you know, people tend to tell people when they are just dropping by” I yell from upstairs. I just hear laughter from downstairs.

-Looking forward to it-

I know I’m fucking smiling at my phone when I text him back but I can’t fucking help it.

♫

“Sasha! Sasha!” I call out. Shit- Where the fuck are they?

Why is it so fucking cold in winter... I just want to grill in fucking peace but no, there has to be goddamn snow.

Snow falls out of my boots as I stomp my feet down against the step of the back entrance. How the fuck did I end up in Trost again? Dealing with winter?

Where the fuck are those two? The kitchen is completely empty, food abandoned- I swear to fuck if they are pulling some kind of joke on me I will poison them.

They are in the hallway- I can tell because there is a sudden eruption of laughter- which isn’t very reassuring.

“...” The words I was planning on saying die in my mouth as I walk in on Sasha and Connie who are laughing and Marco who’s crouched on the ground with his face covered. What the fuck?

“What have you done to him?!” I hear myself say. Jesus Christ- I was worried that Hitch would embarrass me and hell of course Connie and Sasha would but it looks like they killed him.

Marco groans and tries to mumble something about Connie and Sasha. Great this is going so well.

“He rejected our pie.” Connie interjects  and laughs as he disappears into the kitchen carrying a pie in his hand. What the fuck is going on. I look to Marco to see if he’ll tell me but instead of offering any fucking clue he takes a deep breath and stands up fully.

“Uh.. I went to their restaurant and I ended up with a pie that I haven’t touched for two days and I… brought it here.” Marco says finally. Holy shit- the pie that Sasha gave him... he brought it back...

“I didn’t reject it” Marco adds, calling out to Connie even though he’s disappeared.

“Come on, let’s go grill in the fucking snow” I say, pinching at him with my grill tongs because he needs a distraction from the hell hole that Connie and Sasha have created.

Marco finally seems to snap back to reality and says “Alright”.

“You two..” I say, directing my voice at Connie and Sasha, “Stop fucking with people”

“I assure you Jean, we will stop fucking Marco- I mean fucking with Marco. That’s your job.” Connie calls back. Oh I could kill him.

So I tell him as much, “I will poison you Connie!” and pull Marco along with me. Apparently I need to limit how much time he gets to interact with the potato heads to save my sanity.

“House looks nice without boxes everywhere.” Marco says when we are outside. I look up from the grill to him- shit he isn’t wearing a coat.

“Thank you...It was a fucking bitch to get it all clean. You aren’t an adult until you use fucking q-tips to clean dirt out of wall paneling-I didn’t even know that was a thing.” I say trying not to think too much about how I’ve gone from spending my nights at bars to cross legged on the floor picking dirt out of wood paneling.

Marco leans against the side of the house and damn, I wish he would just stay there forever because man was he something to look at.

“That does sound like a pain though” He says pulling me away from my thoughts.

I nod because I have no clue what to say.

“So why are you grilling in the snow again?” Marco says, saving me from having to think of something.

“Because you have to grill at a housewarming party. Winter stops no man” I say. Honestly it’s the only thing I’m really good at, unless we were going to sit down and fix everyone’s taxes at this shindig. I wink at Marco for good measure because it will make him blush or at least make him laugh.

Instead Marco stares at me with an eyebrow raised before saying, “I’m pretty sure there is no mandatory rule for having to grill- especially if you end up getting hypothermia from standing out here.” Well isn't this fucking precious... getting lectured about being in the cold by Marco- the only person who walks in Washington in winter.

“Says the guy who walks everywhere in the dead of a Washington winter.” I say, looking at him with my own eyebrow raised.

“Says the guy who always complains about how cold it is.” Marco retorts and I swear he’s going to be the death of me. I pinch his nose with the end of my grill tong because I can.

“Shut up- stop being logical and enjoy the meat.” I say and almost choke when I think of the unintentional double meaning behind my words.

“I’m a teacher- I have to be logical and rational.” He says, digging his fingers into my sides and making me release his nose.

“It’s the weekend. So you don’t have to be a teacher.” I retort, throwing his own words back at him.

Marco gets an antagonizing look on his face so I scoop up some snow into a loose snowball and lob it at him because two can play at being childish.

“Look at you using your brain.” Marco says throwing a shit eating grin at me. Fuck him and how cute he can be. “Don’t make me go back inside.” he adds as I throw another snow ball at him.

Marco makes a noise in protest and I just want to touch him- so I do. My arm loops around his shoulder and pull him towards me- and for the first time it’s really not any sort of come on, yeah he’s hot but I’m glad he’s here, being my friend.

“Whatever man” I would keep my arm around him for a longer than necessary but the plume of smoke that is leaking out of the grill probably mean steaks have to be attended to.

I remember the fucking step up from the yard into the house because I really don’t need to fucking trip in front of Marco again.

“Yes! Meat has arrived!” Sasha says as we walk in, wiggling her eyebrows at me when Marco isn’t looking at me- of course Connie finds the girl equivalent of himself to partner up with- just what I needed, two Connie's.

“Thank fuck- I’m starving dude.” Connie says, “Can we eat now?”

I ask them what in the world they’ve made because there is a mini grocery store laid out on the kitchen table and I’m actually sorry I asked because I’m pretty sure we stand there for fifteen minutes listening to the never ending list of food. I’m gaining weight standing here.

“Let’s eat then.” I say because if I’m going to be gaining weight I might as well be getting to eat for it. I walk to the dining room and can tell that everyone is following behind me and the steaks.

“Really???” I hear behind me and look to Marco. His gaze falls somewhere between me and the red solo cups. I can't help but laugh because his face is priceless.

“Really” I say. Because what are friends for?

“By the way.. Connie, Sasha.. I hope things are doing well at the restaurant because your food is amazing.” Marco says taking a seat. God I’m so glad he gets along with them- when they are tormenting him at least.

Sasha beams at him because she’s Sasha and says, “Thank you- we promise we will step up our pie game but everything else is going over really well. You actually get to try some new stuff we are putting on the menu right now.”

“Hope you brought your appetite man.” Connie says to him. I feel him slap me on the back as he walks by so I sit down next to Marco and shit here we are a couple, Sasha and Connie and then there's us- a pair of friends...

“I literally had no time for the pie, I swear- and I did because I slept in today and decided it was a good idea to skip breakfast.” Marco says interrupting my thoughts.

Sasha smiles and forgives him with what might be one of the most downright evil looks on her face- Marco’s going to think that everyone I know is crazy- at least this isn’t dinner with the parents.

“I’ll be sure not to mess up next time.” Marco apologizes- he’s going to feel guilty about this for longer than necessary. Shit. “So what’s all this stuff you made?” He asks her- well at least when they are talking about food they aren’t fucking embarrassing anyone.

“well I made a Parma-JEAN mac and cheese, as well as some mash potatoes that are fairly classic.” Sasha says throwing a pointed look at me- of course they made a pun about me for their restaurant. This is payback for laughing at the name The Impasta’s in a what the fuck sort of way.

“-And I made some cheesy garlic pull apart bread and hericot vert- essentially green beans- with corn and shallots” Connie adds on.

“You guys are the best. Like I only ever get meals this nice if I go out to eat.” Marco says- and man he’s going to get shit for that.

“Jesus- what do you eat at home??” Connie practically cries in melodrama.

“Uh… Spaghetti.. some microwave meals from time to time.. and most of the time I just don’t feel like cooking because I’m tired.” he sighs and adds, “Plus my electric goes out a lot.”

I hate that he lives in such a shit hole- he’s the least deserving of it.

Connie and Sasha exchange looks which just makes Marco shift in his chair. “Oh my god Sash, can we adopt him?”

Oh my fucking god Marco must be dying right about now having people fuss over him- it’s not often that people try and adopt you when you are in your twenties- although I’m pretty sure Sasha’s been trying to adopt me.

Sasha looks at Marco adoringly, “We will send him meals and love.”

I can tell Marco is trying not to laugh at them when he says, “Oh my god guys- I’m not dying.”

“Eat your food Marco” Sasha commands with the authority and passion of a mother- not my mother but a normal mother.

“Once you eat our food anything else will just be an  impasta” Connie says- because he’s been dying to use that joke since he thought of it- I can tell because he’s grinning widely- because Connie likes to laugh at his own jokes.

“But I already ate your food once.” Marco says.

“You didn’t eat the pie.” Connie says queuing the loop back to the pie.

“Shut up about the pie and eat your food Connie.” I say because I don’t need for Marco to run screaming from this dinner. Finally with Sasha and Connie eating I turn to my food- which is fucking delicious.

“Oh my fucking god this is so good. Jesus Sasha can we get married” I say after I clear half of my plate.

“Dude” Connie says flipping me off. I shrug back at him.

“We might as well get married considering it’s not like anyone else is asking me” She says staring at Connie.

“Hey we married the restaurant” Connie says in defense holding his hands up in surrender.

“True. Sorry Jean I can’t cheat on the restaurant. I’ll leave you for all the boys and girls of the world who have a strong desire for some seabiscuit in their life” Sasha says winking at me. Horse jokes are definitely what I needed.

“So Marco how are you liking Trost?” Connie asks after a while.

“I like it, considering I’ve gotten used to it cause I moved here in June.” He says, taking a bite, “I do miss home occasionally but my cousin is closer so I guess it makes up for it.”

“Where home?” Sasha asks putting more food onto Marcos plate- at least I won’t be the only one gaining weight.

“Sasha- stop you are going to make me sick or something.” He makes a face, “I’m from Jinae, Arizona.”

“Jesus how the fuck are you so okay with the cold” I ask- because honestly I figured he was from Canada or something.

“Shut up Jean- Arizona is lovely. So you teach music right?” Sasha dismisses me- well fine. Shutting up now.

“mhhm” He nods, “Music and theater.”

“Oh! that's so fun- We are doing an open mic night next month if you're ever interested we think it will become a monthly thing” Sasha says.  

“How about I play piano for you guys instead?” Marco glances between the two.

“Whatever you want- we would be happy to have you” Sasha says.

“We’ll even give you free pie” Connie says laughing. Before I can yell at him for bringing up the fucking pie the door slams.

“JEAAN! Are you home?!” Hitch yells. Shit. She isn’t suppose to be here today- I would never kick her out ever or tell her she couldn’t be here but I would have at least warned Marco.

“Dining room” I call out to her.

Her eyes widen a bit when she see’s Marco sitting at the dining table and a small smile passes over her face- she’s plotting- shit.

“This is Marlowe.” She says and then I notice the boy with the stupid fucking haircut standing behind her. He was a flying monkey in the play and the only reason I remember that is because his hair is hard to ignore.

“Nice to meet you Marlowe. You were in the show right?” I say trying to suppress the urge to ask why he was here, in my house, with my little sister, holding her hand.

“ Yes sir” He says- good he’s scared.

“Interesting” Is all I muster before Hitch decides to chime in.

“Anyways this has been super weird- thanks Jean- so we are going to go upstairs. To my bedroom. Text me. And I’m taking this” Hitch says grabbing the rest of the cheesy bread. Classy.

I mouth to her that I want the door to stay open because there will not be anything scary happening in this house- although Marlowe’s hair is a really good form of birth control.  Hitch really doesn't give a fuck because apparently I’ve done something in my past life to warrant the wrath of a younger sister .

“Nice seeing you Sasha, Connie... Mr. Bodt”  Hitch says, disappearing before anyone can respond.

“Fuck I’m sorry” I apologize, looking over at Marco because that had to be really awkward.

He gives a small smile, “Ha.. It’s ok.”

“Well that whole interaction gave me hives” Connie says. “Fucking teenagers man”

Teenagers- pain in the ass is right.

“Doesn’t help that they are teenagers and my students.” Marco laughs softly.

“Dude I don’t know how you work with teenagers all day” Connie says. “You are a brave soul”

“Indeed” Sasha agrees

“It’s not that bad though- it’s just a little awkward for me to see them outside of school- like this.” Marco says. He runs his hands through his hair.

“I didn’t know Hitch was going to come over today- especially with that kid with the weird hair- Marnie or whatever” I say- fuck I really fucked up.

Marco gathers up any remaining dishes and follows after him, “Marlowe.” He corrects. Yeah I know it’s Marlowe but he doesn’t deserve a name not when he’s holding my sisters hand.

“Whatever”-do I have to worry about this punk?” I ask Marco because what if this kid is a fucking mess of trouble .

“Woah man dial your dad back like ten notches” Connie says.

"I think Hitch is fully capable of taking care of herself" Marco smiles softly.  God, don’t I know it- she’s fucking terrifying but I can still worry.

"She scares me" Connie says, echoing my thoughts.

"She'll be fine Jean" Sasha says coming into kitchen holding a stack of plates.

"Babe we need to get going" she adds on, punching Connie in the shoulder.

Marco smiles at the two, "It was nice to meet you both". I feel relief wash over me because I he likes them which means that my friends are friends with each other and that's a fucking relief.

"Wonderful- anytime you need good food you better stop by" Sasha says hugging Marco.

"Seriously you can hang out in the front or in the kitchen with whoever working he back" Connie says, grabbing his coat from one of the kitchen stools.

Marco laughs and hugs Sasha back with one arm, "I will, you can get my number from Jean if you need to get a hold of me"

"You are going to regret that- I'm not the only one who texts at two am" I warn him.

"I'm learning to turn my ringer off at night." He makes a face at me.

"Alright we'll see y'all later" Sasha laughs grabbing her coat and Connie’s hand.

"I'm sure you'll figure out something to do with all this food" Connie adds as they walk out of the kitchen.

"I'll stop by with Hitch sometime next week" I yell after them because Hitch needs a job- it will be good for her and it will keep her from spending too much time with our parents.

"Bye guys" Marco hums as they leave.

"Sorry bout that" I say, moving to the sink to start the dishes because I need something to do with my hands.

Marco laughs softly and I’m glad I haven’t fucking scared him.

"Connie's been my...” Friend, Connie is my friend even if I didn’t see him for three years- shit like that happens. “Friend since freshmen year of high school and I just met Sasha but it feels like they've been together forever" I explain passing dishes to Marco because he’s trying to help.

"They suit each other really well. It's cute " he says as he dries the dishes and sets them on the counter.

"Oh- fuck I'm sorry about the pie. I saw you at the restaurant last week and mentioned to Sasha that I knew you and next thing I knew she had materialized a fucking pie" I tell him because I realize two and two may have not been put together because Sasha and Connie operate on their own warped schedule.

"I didn't mean to make your date weird" I add. The blonde man, with his hair pulled back in a ponytail- the one who had made Marco laugh with ease seemed sweeter than I could ever be.

“That makes so much since now. Armin and I were so confused. Oh- and it wasn't a date or anything, Armin is the school's librarian and he invites me to lunches and such cause I don't go out much,"  he explains, laughing at the idea.

"Mhmm. Want a tour of the house?" I ask him because the dishes are done, Marco wasn’t on a date and I have nothing to do except ring my hands. Shit.

"As long as you don't show me a room full of boxes, then sure" Marco says laughing again.

"You fucking wish you could be that lucky"I say winking at him, because I hope he blushes.

Instead he rolls his eyes at me.

"Denials painful man" I mutter- jokingly, but coming painfully close to the truth. "Come on grand tour and all that shit is this way." Marco follows me into the ‘foyer’ as the real estate woman called it. "

Also I can't believe you actually put out red solo cups you jerk" Marco says hitting me lightly on the shoulder.

"Well my girlfriend wasn't going to make it so I figured I would be safe." I say letting my smile slip into my voice.

"Whatever." He sticks out his tongue at me.  

"How's Tuff?" I ask because I know his cat is like his kid to him.

"Doing really well. I need to take her to the vet over break."

"Oh man" I say at a loss for words because vets- I can’t deal with vets or what to say about vets- not after going through a dog dying.

"So this is the living room" I say instead of any alternatives.  "Which you've seen...but it's clean now."

"It looks nice. Like a lot nicer without you tripping over stuff." He shoots me a look. Of course he’s bringing up how clumsy I am.

"This is my office" I narrate as I walk through the sliding doors which doubled as actual portals to hell.  

"Where you stay up till the ungodly hours of the morning working?" He asks, looking around.

"Yup... The window even simulate daytime" I sigh, because I set up this torture room.

"That's messed up" He says looking at me. I know.

"You just defined my life"

"Do you ever think about getting a different job? One that isn't so hard on you?" He asks softly. His eyes meet mine and I have to walk away because I can’t handle anyone looking at me like that let alone him.

"All the fucking time" I mutter heading out of the office.

 "Oh that's the downstairs bathroom" I point to the door so that I can change the subject.

"Why don't you then?" He asks, ignoring my diversion. Shit shit shit.

“Because I’m a masochist” I say. It’s true. Not the whole truth but partially.

“Seriously.” He follows me downstairs, “Why don’t you?”

“It’s a steady job- which Hitch needs me to have” I say in as low of a voice as I possibly can. I can fucking feel the walls coming up.

“Okay, I get that.” he nods softly, thankfully dropping the topic.

“Yeah- So this is the basement- which pretty much concludes the tour since all that's upstairs are bedrooms and a library.”

“This is all pretty nice.” He smiles softly, “its a lot better than an apartment.” He laughs. Again, why the fuck does he have to suffer such a shitty apartment.

“I picked it out over the phone with a Realtor and Hitch- there is no way I was staying with my parents for any amount of time.”  

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” I ask after a few moments of us just standing around.

“Uh-” He blinks and looks at the time, “Yea, sure-”

“Got anything in mind?”

He shakes his head no. Of course he doesn’t.  

“How do you feel about terrorism?” I ask him, knowing that that is a question that will make him pay attention.

“I- don’t know? Why? Are you thinking of some kind of cop show or something?”

“24” I ask- great show, no one is really struggling with romance and shit because there's explosions and interrogations.

Marco takes a seat on the arm of the couch, “Never watched it before.”

Not surprising- Marco doesn’t seem like he watches a shit ton of television, ‘simple pleasures’ and whatnot. I poke him in the chest so he falls backwards onto the couch and ignore the way that touching him feels- because we are friends-

“It’s fucking addicting” I warn him- each season can be watched in a little under twenty four hours- and me and Connie have done it before.

Marco makes a noise of skepticism- man he;s gonna be hooked. “We’ll see about that.” he says.

I flip the lights off and sit down on the opposite side of the couch to give him space- it will be different than watching movies with Hitch who just likes to lay draped over everything she possibly can.

♫

Three Episodes Later:

Marco’s hooked into the  episode because he hasn’t uttered a single word in the three hours we’ve spent watching the show. I’ve spending more time trying not to stare to hard at Marco’s reactions.

**-getting laid yet?-**

Fucking Connie... at least my phones on silent. Marcos still leaning forward with his head resting on arms- his brow furrowed as the terrorists act terrorist-y.

-shut up. he’s a friend-

-like you-

Lies. I am a super liar.

**-Didn’t know you had such a big crush on me-**

-have I ever told you how much I hate you-

**-yeah yeah yeah-**

**-but seriously dude...you got it bad-**

I look over at Marco again- he’s drawn the bottom corner of his lip into his mouth in confusion.. anticipation.. about the show- his eyebrows still scrunched up. Why is he doing this to me?

-its not what he wants-

**-im sorry-**

-I like having his as a friend-

-im getting over it-

**-what are you guys doing than?-**

-24-

**-ohh shit-**

**-you gonna do the thing?-**

Connie is referring to the time where he stabbed me in the neck with a pencil  during  an interrogation scene and I almost peed myself.

-thank you Connie-

**- <3-**

Thank fuck for the basement being Hitch’s homework den because there are paperclips.- paperclips will work. As Jack Bauer yells something particularly Jack Bauer-y I poke the end of the unfolded paperclip into the side of Marcos neck.

Marco jumps in his seat and turns to look at me wide eyed, “Holy crap Jean! You jerk you nearly gave me a heart attack!” he says. I see his arm come forward to shove me and I grab the front of his shirt because there’s no way I’m falling off of this couch.

We are laughing to hard- or at least I am- because the look on Marco’s face is priceless. Shit- the fucking floor is not a nice place to slam the back of your head into but I manage to stop my head from bouncing and slamming into Marco’s face. I hadn’t even realized we fell.

“Shoot- are you ok?” Marco says, hovering over me. My head is spinning.

“I’m fine” I say- use to falling by now. My eyes focus on Marco- his face is twisted up in pain.

“Wait are you okay?” I ask- my voice sounds hoarse.

“M’fine.” He strains a smile and pushes back from me, sitting on the floor.

“Liar” I say immediately because I can just fucking tell by the way his arms shake that he’s hurt himself- shit- that I hurt him.

“M’fine.” He repeats. Great a fellow suffer in silence type.

“Wait here” I tell him because he needs ice but he won’t ever tell me that. Never have I been more happy to have a first aid kit.

Thankfully Marco takes the fucking ice pack when I give it to him because I would fight him on it. He slips off the side of his jacket and takes his arm out- there's so many things I could say- that I really really want to say when I see the tail end of a scar running out the end of his short sleeved shirt. My ribs ache looking at them but it takes everything I have to rip my eyes away and not say anything. He didn’t want to admit to hurting his arm when he fell- he sure as hell doesn’t want to talk about this.

“You wanna keep watching?” I ask instead because we all need distractions.

“Mhmmm.” He nods.

I hit play and keep my eyes trained on the tv.

“Sorry about that-” He murmurs. Did he seriously just apologize for me hurting him.

“Did you just apologize for me hurting you?” I ask not even trying to mask how ridiculous I found that he was apologizing.

“Dude- you didn’t hurt me, I just landed funny.” He says.

“Oh my god-” I want to argue but something in Marco’s face tells me to drop it. “Well I’m glad I got the fucking first aid kit because I’ve used it too many times in the past week to not have it.”

He laughs softly, “The boxes made you accident prone.” I click my tongue in response- because I’m not usually clumsy but Marco’s only ever seen me falling.

“fuck” I curse without thinking about it when I feel the cold as fuck surface of the ice pack being pressed into my neck. Marco’s wearing a shit eating grin.

“Payback for poking my neck”  Marco smirks at me, and I can’t help but try and hide my smile.

“Shut up and watch” I mutter.

“Ok ok.” He turns his attention back to the tv screen.

♫

There’s no way to stop what’s about to happen- which is a terrifying thought. The pop of a nerf gun is the only thing that give Hitch away as she fucking creeps downstairs.

"Haha suckers!" Hitch yells firing her gun. Because I’m an adult I automatically go for the nerf guns that are velcro-ed under my couch for this exact reason. All’s fair in Hitch and war.

"Think again" I yell at her, hitting her dead in the chest with a rapid succession of bullets.  The look on her face might beat the look on Marco’s face when he got paperclipped.

Marco- speaking of which- he’s disappeared into the corner. I fire my nerf gun at him and watch him throw his hand s up to cover his face.  

"Alls fair in war and nerf guns man" I say as he throws me an incredulous look.

"Shit! I have been thwarted" Hitch says dropping to the step she stood on and dying dramatically.

"Oh my god you two" Marco says, laughing at us.

"You have a younger brother" I say shrugging- because really this is all just sibling shit.

"Is he hot!" Hitch says, sitting up from where she had died dramatically. Jesus Christ.

"Hitch you don't need to know that" Marco smiles and shakes his head.

"Actually it's super vital information" Hitch says- I can tell she’s jerking his leg because she want’s to be a pain in the ass.

"I mean he probably is but you never know.."She tacks on, raising her eyebrows at me. This is where it would be ideal for god to smite me- when my little sister decides to suggest that her teacher’s brother is probably hot based on the appearance of her teacher who also happens to be my... friend.

"HITCH!" I raise my voice because everyone should shut up now.

"Fine brother dearest" Hitch says rolling her eyes. She isn’t even fazed.

"Oh my god teenagers- Speaking of which- what happened to Martin or marlin- whatever the fuck his name is.” I ask her.

"I sent him home" Hitch says shrugging. The ‘after I got what I wanted’ was implied.

"Oh god" I say more to myself than anyone else.  "Don't manipulate that boy he has enough problems in life like his stupid hair" Because jesus, I love my sister but she could wreck everyone's hearts for the fun of it

"It's pretty shitty" Well at least she agrees. "Oh so can I have that pie?" Hitch asks- lovely the real reason she decided to start a nerf gun war. Pie.

"You can have a piece of pie" I respond automatically- no one needs a whole pie.

"Lame" Hitch says. "Pie is my life" she whines.

"You want pie?" I ask Marco, shooting him in the face with the nerf gun because he hasn’t been paying attention.

"sure" he says, nodding his head and following me upstairs.

I cut the pie into larger than necessary slices and hand plates to Marco and Hitch.

Marco makes a face when I hand him a red solo cup of milk but thanks me anyways. Red solo cups are never going to get old.

"Are you staying tonight?" I ask Hitch, fucking up her hair as I walk by her so I can sit on the counter next to Marco.

"Yup" she says and it feels like eight pounds have been lifted off of me.

"Did you unpack your room?" I ask her.

"Does it really matter" Hitch asks. She has a point. I really don’t give a fuck about what her room looks like- as long as there aren’t any boys hiding in there- stupid hair or not.

"I don't know- but everyone yelled at me about unpacking everything else so..." I say.

"I love you more than life" I hear her whisper to her pie. Well we lost her.

"This is really good, though I don't think Connie and Sasha will ever let it go" Marco says, his first bite of pie gone. I snap a picture of him mid second bite- his eyes are closed and the fork is hanging out of his mouth but he’s smiling.

"You need to stop taking pictures of me at unnecessary times" He says when he realizes what I did.

"It's completely necessary- Connie and Sasha need to know that you tried the pie so that the can let it go" I say as I send the picture to Connie and Sasha.

Marco huffs and rolls his eyes, "I guess."

"Lighten up Mr. Bodt" Hitch says laughing because she’s so great at making moments awkward. She runs upstairs with two more slices of pie before I can even glare at her.

Marco sighs, "that sounds too awkward outside of school"

"I assume they have to call you Mr. Bodt in class?" I ask.

He nods, "it's not like college where I could just say call me Marco. It has to be Mr. Bodt here"

"Have you ever "thought about teaching college?" It sounds so much better- not dealing with teenagers.

"Mhm. I applied for one but the only reply to my job  application was Trost High." Marco says putting his empty plate down. I take it from him and put it in the sink along with mine.

"I might try again over the summer. Though I just want to teach at schools till I get settled down enough, location and money wise" he says, slipping off the counter.

"Yeah- that sounds logical" I say with the least amount of bitterness in my voice that I can.

"At least there is a good amount of schools near here, I don't feel like moving again. " He says- I’m instantly relieved- I’ve become dangerously attached.

"You miss out on the joys of boxes" I joke- raising my eyebrows at him.

"It's called labeling them Jean" he sighs, nudging my arm with his elbow.

"Well I'm not moving ever again so that settles that." I say shrugging- because I have a ten year mortgage and no desire to ever pack up all this shit again.

"Considering you finally got the house clean, I would hope not"

"You say that like It will stay clean. I have Hitch and Connie over enough that it will be a fucking disaster in no time." I say.

"Yea good luck with that" he laughs.

"Thanks" I say sarcastically.

My phone rings and it startles me because I put it on silent- but the ringtone means it’s work. "Sorry I'm just going to grab this really quickly" I say, and pick up the phone. It takes me a fraction of a second to switch to Mandarin as I walk into the living room.  

I fucking hate my job is the only thing that my brain seems to process while I’m on the call with one of my clients local accountants. And because someone really fucking hates me my mother decides to call right as I hang up the work call. Great.

“Jean?” Her voice comes through the speaker and I hold in a sigh.

“Yes mom?” I say cutting to the chase.

“Have you seen Hitch- she didn’t check in with me today” She says. She sounds... sober which throws me off guard. Hitch had said she returned to AA but that was last week and she hasn’t made it to more than one meeting in years.

“Um- yeah- she’s staying over here but she’ll be back tomorrow” I say, still processing the fact that none of her words slurred and she sounds worried, not pissed.

“Okay honey. Just tell her to call me tomorrow.” She says. Honey... she’s killing me. How long will she be sober this time, a few more days? Or just long enough to get our hopes up?

“Okay mom- uh- I got to go but I’ll do that” I say, trying not to let my voice crack on the phone with her.

“Love you honey” She says. I can’t respond so I don’t say anything. The click of the phone hanging up jerks me back to reality. What the fuck is going on. She’s sober, works falling apart, Marco’s in my kitchen...

"Everything okay?" Marco asks when I walk back into the kitchen and let my head slump against the counter because I’m exhausted.

"I hate my fucking job. I hate my parents" I say before I can stop myself. "But it's fine." I add on.

"Doesn't seem fine if you are using the counter as a headrest" Marco says.

I look up at him,  "Seriously it's nothing that I haven't dealt with before. I'm fine." I say. That is the truth at least.

"Okay. But if you do need to talk or anything I'll listen. Even at 2am" He says.

"Sure sure" I say smiling at him. He nudges me again.

He smiles and looks at his phone, "what are you doing for thanksgiving?"

"Uh... Leftovers from this and sleeping" I say.

"No relatives or anything?"

"None that I want to see- and hitch is going to her friends house up north"

"A thanksgiving alone sounds nice though" he shrugs softly.

"It's normal for me now" I say before I realize how fucking pathetic that makes me sound.

"If I was staying in town I would say we can go to Connie and Sasha's for thanksgiving or something."

"Ill probably end up there. I'll save you some of their thanksgiving pies- what are you doing for thanksgiving?" I ask him.

He laughs, "I don't think I'll need more food when I get back. And I'll be going to my cousin's house in Oregon where my family will meet since it's closer."

"Oregon such a lesbian state. Fuck sorry- I- nevermind that was a joke that me and Connie had cause we both had girlfriends who turned out to be lesbians who were from Oregon-" I trail off thinking of Annie. She was fucking crazy but it was good for a while.

"That's pretty funny, considering Ymir is a lesbian" Marco says smiling.

"Dear fucking lord" I blurt out- because shit like this is hilarious.

He smiles, "you two would actually get along pretty well I think. She's just as rude."

I nudge him this time- I can't deny that I’m a jackass.

"You want to watch more of the show?" I ask because I’m exhausted but I don’t want him to leave.

He nods, "sure, it's not that late so why not". I gesture for him to go downstairs.

When I get downstairs Marco is sitting in his spot on the couch. I plop down on the couch and start pitching forward in tiredness.

♫

"Marco?"I say when I jerk awake- remembering where I am and that there is someone else here with me. I look to Marco’s end of the couch and he’s slumped against the corner, head drooping forward.

"Hey Marco" I say, moving closer to him and nudging his shoulder, trying to wake him up gently.

He doesn’t wake up but groans and leans his head on my shoulder. I feel my entire body tense up. My  brain is screaming at me and my fucking heartbeat is out of control.

"Marco?" I say this time a little bit louder this time- I don’t want to scare him awake.

"Don't move." He mumbles in his sleep.

I let my head  fall against the back of the couch. Marco settles against me and I brush away the hair that’s fallen in his face.

"Freckles?" I try.

Marco shifts and sits back to lean against the couch, finally coming to. "Whaat?" He asks as he rubs his eye.

"You fell asleep- normally I'd let you sleep but I know you have Tuff at home" I say shifting in my seat.

Marco rolls his shoulders, "Right, thank you." He looks up at the tv, "How far did we get in the episode?"

" ’Bout thirty five minutes in" I say yawning.

Marco nods and stands up, "you're tired too. I'll head back home.”

"but you will probably go back to work, won't you?" He says after a minute and I can’t help but laugh.

"You know me too well- can I drive you home? Since its eleven and cold as balls" I ask him. I know he’s going to say no but I have to ask.

"No, cause the roads are covered with snow and I highly doubt you can get your car out of the driveway." He says.

"What if I walk with you?" 

"Jean, I'm fine."

"Fine. Text me so I know you haven't been murdered" I say covering my face with a pillow to resist arguing with him.

"I don't think a murderer would even be out in this weather." He says with a smile before moving to go upstairs after he slips on his shoes.

"Wait so a fucking murder is too good for the snow but you're okay?" I say rolling off the couch because he has created a weakness in his argument.

"Exactly" Marco laughs.

"You are so fucking frustrating" I say, following him upstairs into the hall. I slip my coat on as he puts his own on.

"So are you." He has a point- irrelevant but a point.

"Damn right I am" I mutter, shoving me feet into snow boots and putting on a hat and scarf.

"Jean." He narrows his eyes, "stay here. " he says as he puts on his own hat, scarf and gloves.

"I'm just going for a walk" I say smirking at him.

"You are a big baby in the cold. I highly doubt you would take a walk, especially right now."

"Did you just call me a big baby?" I ask- he’s such a teacher.

"I did" he says and grabs my hat off my head.

"Motherfucker" I hiss because I wasn't expecting my hat to ripped from my head. I grab for Marcos and put it between my back and and the wall so he can’t get it back.  

"Jean." he says staring at me.

"Marco" I say back, mimicking his tone.

"Fine you can walk with me. Under one condition." This should be good.  

"Which would be?" I ask.  

Marco puts my hat back on my head and holds out his gloves, "you wear these"

I laugh because it’s hardly a condition when I know devious people like Hitch and Connie.  

"Whatever you want freckle Jesus" I say, putting Marco’s hat back on him.

"But that means that you get these" I adds, pulling out mittens from my pocket.

"No. Cause mittens are weird" he says, opening the door.

"So are you. Put them on Bodt" I say following him.

"Nope" he says as the starts walking through the snow to the sidewalk.

"Now who's the baby" I mutter.

"You are still." I hear him say back.

I stick my tongue at him because if we are going to act five, I can commit.  

Marco just smiles and looks up at the sky. "Tonight was fun. Thanks"

"You don't have to thank me" I say rolling my eyes. I should be thanking him.

"I still will though." He says and his phone starts ringing. "Sorry-" he says as he answers it. "Hey Ymir- okay. No I'm not home yet- Ok I'll be back soon just stay in your car and I'll let you in soon. I will. You too- yes I love you too. Bye"

"Everything okay?" I ask him.

"Yea my cousin is at my apartment because she's taking me to her place tomorrow."

"Sorry I kept you so late" I apologize. Which I seem to be doing more than I ever have before.

He smiles, "it's ok. I didn't know what time she was arriving anyways."

"So I hope you know that Connie and Sasha are going to start bringing you food. Like fuck tons" I warn him.

"Oh my god please tell them don't. I'm not starving to death. " He rolls his eyes. I don’t think he understands that once Connie and Sasha latch onto an idea, they don’t let go.

"I can't control them. You'll be tasked with trying everything new before they put it in the restaurant"

"Joy" he mutters, turning on to the street that his house is on.

"Connie and Sasha are the only reason I go to the gym"

"Pfft" he laughs, "with all that pasta that would be a good thing."

"Hitch hates me because I drag her with me" I say laughing at the memory of Hitch at the gym. hse sat on the stationary bike and ate fruit snacks while watching adventure time.

"Well I feel her pain because my brother drags me places with him."

"Aren't you the older brother?" I say nudging him with my side.

"Yea but I love my brother and he doesn't see me that much "

"Sounds about right" I say under my breath.

Marco smiles and steps to the side, "watch out for ice"

"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT" I curse. My head slams into the ice of the pavement and my vision goes blurry for the fucking second time in one night.

I register that Marco is holding his hand out to me but I press my hands to my face to take a deep breath before letting him help me up, "should've stayed home." Marco says.

"Should have driven" I mutter.

"The car wouldn't take the ice any better than you would." He says.

“I have snow chain-” I manage before I realize I’m falling again.

I crash into Marco’s chest but he falls into the bank of snow behind him. “Ouch- you okay?” He asks.

“Jesus Christ- shit sorry” I apologize- again.

He laughs, thankfully, and doesn’t seem to want me to move- which is a relief because  I need to catch my breath. “It’s okay. That was pretty funny. You sure you’re alright?” he asks.

“I’m good are you good?” I ask him back.

“I’m good.” He replies.

“So you’re fucking late and I come out to find THIS?” I hear a female voice above us.

“Hey Ymir.” Marco laughs. Shit- the cousin.

I flinch against him because this is exactly the worst way to meet someone.  I roll off of Marco and let myself fall into the snow next to him.

Ymir- who looks strikingly like Marco helps him up and Marco turns to me, helping me up for the second time that night. At least I hadn’t hurt him this time.

“Baby cousin- you could’ve told me you were having some fun in the snow.” Ymir says, her insinuation clear. Thank fuck for having wind burn because I’m already as red as I could be.

“Ymir shut it.” Marco mutters in a tone he’s used on me before. I laugh because I remember him saying that me and Ymir would probably get along.

“Hey Ymir, I'm Jean" I say, sticking my hand out to her.

“.......Who the hell are you?” She says, a fire in her eyes. Holy fuck she sure gives off the impression of a major bitch.

“Ymir- this is my friend I told you about.” Marco cuts in.

"Clumsy friend- less 'fun' in the snow and more falling" I try. She gives me a look that says she really doesn’t give a fuck.

“Come on. You’re probably cold. Let’s go inside.” She says.

Marco rolls his eyes and smiles at me, “Sorry- You okay getting home?”

"I'm fine. Bye Marco. It was....nice...meeting you Ymir" I add trying to be nice. Ymir starts walking off in the direction of what I assume is Marcos apartment.

♫

The worst part of winter is fucking ice. Snow- snow I can deal with but ice is the goddamned devil. For the second- third?- time tonight I end up laying on the ground because ice fucked my life. The sky is nice though, I take a picture and send it to Marco, only hoping to convey how much I really fucking hate winter.

-the sky looks lovely... Glad I have this great view from the ground-

-falling is great-

-love ice-

-winters fucking magical-

-so much fucking fun-

**-oh my god Jean- please get home safe-**

-yeah yeah yeah I'm getting there... Slowly-

-see you when when the holidays are over... Enjoy the lesbian state ;) -

**-I will. Have fun with Connie and Sasha-**

My phone buzzes as a text from an unknown number comes in.

**-I’m watching you punk.-**

What the fuck. I send the number to Marco and Connie asking them if they know the number. Marco’s reply comes first.

**-Oh god I’m so sorry that’s Ymir just ignore her- she stole my phone for a few minutes-**

Ymir- she’s fucking crazy. I can respect it and Marco seems to like her so she has to have redeeming quality but she’s terrifying. Another text message from her comes in on my phone.

**-I will come find you if you fuck up-**

I really can’t argue with that because if I hurt Marco she could come fuck me up and I would let her. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been hit- but probably the best reason as to why I was.

-please do-

I leave it at that because there's nothing really to say and I can’t think about it anymore.

****  
  



	9. Giving Up the Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days are long and the nights are longer when Marco's not around.   
> In other words Jean has to cope with the fact that even when Marco does come home, Marco's not coming home to his home. 
> 
> Hang in there Pony Boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy the chapter arrived on time.   
> I guarantee you that it's because we fixed PencilOnly's computer (it involved some cursing and a very tiny screw driver... which trust me, outside of fanfiction is not actually sexy). But anyways, yeah I had her to keep me on track, therefore the fic is actually getting published on a friday. And once again I love this chapter because its Hitch heavy. 
> 
> Alsoooo I feel like a proud writer because I get to graduate my fic to a mature rating (yassssss).   
> <3 love you guys

Chapter 9: Giving Up the Ghost

I know when my thoughts are about to drift to Marco- and not the Marco that I get to hang out with- not friend Marco. I can tell exactly when because my thoughts are invaded with the image of his hands, freckles dotting the tops of his knuckles, his fingers long, but nails short. I fucking crave his hands. I try not to think about him- not sexually- not since we’ve become friends but his shoulders are broad, screaming to be held onto. The thought of Marco always seem to sneak up when no ones around- when I’m left alone long enough to think, and then my mind is on the one way, no detours, fast track, to fucking Marco-ville. And if it’s not enough for my mind to wander to places as expansive as my collections of fantasies entangled with Marco, my body is completely on board to, because the thoughts send thick bolts of pooling heat to my gut.

I almost wish Hitch would just come home- because that's a boner killer- then I wouldn’t need self control. I could  just ‘oh shit my sisters home’ my way out of masturbating to the thought of my friend.

I have no self control though. And no one is home.

My hand wraps around my cock and fuck me- it’s so wrong-but the images of Marco that my mind can come up with are so right. Marco pushing against me, attacking my neck with his beautiful fucking mouth, sucking angry red lines of hickies down my neck.Or Marco rolling his naked hips against mine, our erections rubbing against each other as he runs his damned freckled hands up and down my back. I would love to get my hands in that hair, mess up that teacher look of his, make him crazy with my touch. The thought send my heart racing, and my hand aching to keep up. Just the fucking idea of Marco is doing crazier things to my body than porn or any hook up has done to me- because my hips are instinctively arching up to meet my hand on every stroke- and the noises I’m making should fucking embarrass me.

I cum on my stomach, the only saving grace for the whole situation is that I’m not screaming his name. All I want to do is sleep- and maybe forget about how much of a shit head I am. Marco deserves a friend twelve times better than I am.

♬

I wake up immediately to the sound of my phone, I need to change the text tone because it’s shrill as fuck compared to the dead quiet house.  The last thing I need is to wake up having mild heart attacks because I forget to put my phone on do not disturb.

**-Are you okay?-**

It’s Marco- what the fuck is he talking about? I text him back immediately- I really hope that I read the text message right and I’m not hallucinating because I can’t read properly when I first wake up.

-.....yeah-

**-Okay..-**

Something is really weird- or wrong. I shoot him back a text message-immediately all the things that could be going wrong are running through my head and now I need to know if he’s okay. Fuck I’m worrying about him.

-Are you..?-

**-mhhhmm..-**

He’s lying. I can imagine the way that he says it too- the same way he says he’s okay after I pulled him off the couch after me. I’m not suppose to have another person to worry about. I only need to worry about Hitch and I like it that way. But I worry about Marco- I can’t help worrying about him.

-Liar.-

**-Please don’t worry about it-**

I’m not going to fight him. So instead I lie- because I don’t want him to know that I’m worrying about him because then he’ll worry about me. It’s all a really fucking rational process of course... me and Marco taking the win for healthy friendships.

-yeah yeah yeah freckles-

-come home safe okay-

Home. He’s not coming home to me because we don’t live together. We don’t have a relationship together. I need to get myself together because I’m starting to wish for things that are never going to happen and I don’t need to ruin my friendship with him. I add on to the text messages I sent him hoping he won’t notice.

-to Trost I mean-

He takes a few moments to respond and I can hear my heartbeat through every fucking second he doesn’t text back.

**-I will-**

**-Don’t get into any trouble-**

-No promises-

**-Anyways, I should be back Friday.-**

I feel myself smiling like a fucking idiot. I’m fucking stupid on Marco because my mind automatically starts the countdown. Three days. I’m a grown man- I can go without seeing my best friend for three days. Hell, I went without seeing Connie for three years.

-We should watch more 24-

**-That would be great-**

-I’ll have brownies ready ;) -

-and red solo cups-

**-fine pony boy-**

I could murder Connie for starting this shit.

-shut up-

**-you can’t make me-**

I can think of a lot of ways I could get Marco to shut up, and almost all of them involved our mouths. The others involved our dicks and I am not entirely proud of that.

-We’ll see-

**-I’m hours away-**

-stop being logical-

**-I’m a teacher-**

-yeah yeah yeah-

**-:) -**

-Get back to your family Bodt-

**-I still got an hour before we arrive-**

-fun-

I can’t imagine Marco sitting in a car for that long. Especially with someone as...colorful as Ymir. But really- picturing Marco in a car is tough considering he’s only let me drive him somewhere once and he looked like a nervous wreck for most of it.

- **well.. I’ll let you go then?-**

-I’m not doing anything-

I don’t want him to stop talking to me. It’s two in the afternoon and I have nothing to do- and if I did I would probably just ignore it if I was talking to Marco because I am shitty at being an adult. I’m better suited to be a perpetual nineteen year old.

**-Well.. I don’t have anything interesting to say..-**

-everything you say is interesting-

-I hope you can feel my eye roll from here-

**-oh? Is that what that small feeling in the wind was?-**

-oh yeah-

**-I dunno man. You need to step up your game-**

-way to kill my dreams man-

**-Sorry sorry.. I’m tired-**

-Go to sleep-

I don’t want to keep him from sleeping. Shit.

**-I just woke up-**

-lame-

-waking up sucks-

**-So are you free from work for a few days at least?-**

Fucking work. I hate this stupid job. It was fine when I was living in California and everything was 24 hours and I worked at odd hours, sleep when the strippers and doctor’s slept and had no friends. At bars I could find hookups and  for dinner, delivery was always an option. Here, everything closes after ten pm, I have Hitch, I have friends and I have the fucking never ending snow drifts that make everything feel just generally shitty.

-Not really-

**-So does that mean you are going to sleep soon?-**

-In 2 hours-

**-Oh, okay-**

-work sucks-

**-it’s gonna get worse for me after I get back. Gotta start preparing for midterms-**

-Cancel the midterms-

**-I wish-**

-The children would love you-

**-The school wouldn’t though-**

My phone rings and a picture of Hitch holding a empty pie dish in one hand while flipping me off with the other pops up.

“Hitch?” I answer, my mind going to dark places of worry because she’s suppose to be upstate with her friends for thanksgiving at a cabin where theres barely any reception. She wouldn’t call me if if wasn’t something serious.

“Jean-” She barely gets my name out before I hear the break in her voice. She wants to cry- but she probably won’t.

“Hitch? What’s wrong” I say, trying to bite back the worry in my voice.

“They are fighting.” She says. Where the fuck is she? Who the fuck is fighting. My mind draws to old memories- the hazy outline of my parents fighting before Hitch was old enough to even remember. The furious tone in which my dad would spit insults at my mom, the slurred curses she would snarl back and the threat of a raised hand.

“Mina’s parents” She says softly. Mina’s her friend who she decided to stay with over Thanksgiving.  

“How bad is it?” I ask, I hardly find myself wishing for parents to be cursing each other out, but its better than hitting.

“s’not bad” She says even quieter. “I- just- I wanted to get away from all of this shit” She adds. Her voice cracks again and my heart drops a little bit.

“Do you want me to come get you?” I ask her. I want to come get her- but I don’t want to force her to do things she doesn’t want to do- our parents do that enough already.

“No- I want to stay. With Mina... but I just wanted to call you” She says.

“If you need me to come and get you, I will” I say, uncaring if I have to drive five minutes or five hours.

“Thanks Jean” Hitch says, sounding a little bit more pulled together.

“Hey, I love you” I say back- hoping that she knew that I meant it.

“I know. I love you too” She says, the phone cracking.

“You okay?” I ask her again, I can’t help but worrying about her.

“I will be Jean. I promise. I’m gonna go and check on Mina” Hitch says, pulling in her breath and sounding collected again.

“Okay. Let me know.” I say. She makes some noise that I think means something along the lines of ‘yeah yeah sure’ before she hangs up.

Today is a great day.

♬

November 25th

5AM-

My head slams into the desk as I pitch forward. My head is fuzzy with the need to sleep. The clock reads five am and thank fuck- I can clock out. I survived another night. This fucking job is going to kill me. I need a new one.

♬

1PM-

“Have a good day” The barista at the coffee house next to Sasha and Connie’s say.

“Thanks man” I say, looking up at him and giving him a small smile because there no reason to be mean.  He winks at me and his smiles a bit lopsided.He would have been a guy I had bent over my kitchen table in three seconds but now not so much. I’m not here to fuck half the town. No more hook ups. It doesn’t help that he has freckles dotted over his face and my mind is already racing towards Marco- the zero to sixty affect in less than ten seconds.

I walk out of the coffee shop onto the street- I don’t know what to do- there’s no Hitch, no Connie and Sasha, and no Marco.

Well there could be Marco- maybe. I send him a text not knowing what to say but just going for it.

-Saw someone with freckles. Yours are better.-

Marco’s were better- but maybe I’m bias. My phone buzzes as Marcos text message comes in.

**-Hi! This is Marco’s mother. He’s getting x-rays done at the moment and can’t reply to your message but I’ll let him know you sent something-**

I feel my brain explode a little bit. His mother saw that. Holy shit. Why. It takes me a few minutes to register what she’s said past ‘this is Marco’s mother’. X-rays. Why is he getting x-rays? I want to text him back but I’m also not ready to talk to Marco’s mother- about anything.

♬

7PM

“Jean!” Hitch smiles when I get out of the car. She and who I assume is Mina are standing outside of a cabin holding bags. I was relieved when she called me telling me that her and Mina told her parents that I had gotten them tickets to see a concert that they’ve been dying to see for a while so that they could get out of the house. I didn’t blame them, holidays shouldn’t be spent with arguing parents.

“Hey, are you guys ready?” I ask, because I figure they don’t want to stick around and I really don’t either.

“Yup. This is Mina” Hitch says, motioning for Mina to step out from where she practically hiding behind her bag.

I nod to her, because she doesn’t need more hell when these last few days have been so shitty for them. I’m not that much of an asshole.

“Thank you” Mina says, pulling on a strand of her hair. She seemed way too sweet for Hitch.

“Both of you in the back” I say, looking pointedly at Hitch. She’s fucked up my car enough so she better not complain.

“Yes sir” Hitch says, saluting me mockingly. I see Mina throw Hitch a look that really can only be described as ‘what the fuck Hitch’ and man, I like this kid.  

♬

November 26th

“Jeannnnnn” Hitch whines, stomping down the stairs. She’s like living with a fucking giant who terrorizes towns.

“Yes?” I ask, turning towards the stairs, leaning against the counter.

“Can we go to Dairy Queen?” She says while yawning. It’s four in the afternoon and she’s still in her pajamas and I honestly can’t judge her.

“Where’s Mina?” I ask because she seemed to disappear last night.

“She’s upstairs knitting. I think she’s feeling sick but she want’s alone time” Hitch says, giving me a look that says I shouldn’t press it. I lift my hands up in surrender because she’s not my kid and Hitch really thinks that Mina needs help she would tell me.

“Yeah we can go. But get dressed.” I respond not because I care about wearing pajamas outside but more because her shorts are uncomfortably short for anyone to see. Not that I would tell her that because she would slit my throat in the night.

“You should get dressed too Mr. I’m soooo Punk with my Nipple Piercing” Hitch says as she runs up the stairs. Yeah she better fucking run.

By the time I get back downstairs, dressed and ready to go, Hitch has materialized on the couch downstairs.

“Hey diva you ready to go, or did you want to take another twenty minutes to get ready?” She asks me with a shit eating grin. Whatever...I had to do my hair.

“Did you hear the breaking news, the Dairy Queen burnt down. Guess we can’t go” I say, raising an eyebrow at her. Two can play this game.

“Fine, fine. You look beautiful and majestic or whatever the fuck you want to hear- now lets goooooo. I have a mighty need for a blizzard.” Hitch says, jumping off the couch and walking towards the front door. She pulls on one of the red beanies the always sit’s with the fuckton of coats by the front door.

“Are we going to match today?” I ask her.

“We better” She says, looking back at me. The beanie hits me in the face before I even realize that she had thrown it.

♬

“Woah- he’s hot. But he’s also sort of like a mini Mr. Bodt so I guess that’s weird. But at least we know he’ll grow up to look good.” Hitch says, turning my phone around to me. Marco apparently in the time that Hitch took my phone to play music texted me a photo of him with his brother. I’m glad I just pulled into the Dairy Queen because  choosing between looking at the road or keeping my eyes on the picture of Marco, smiling with his brother, would have been difficult.

“Hitch, you aren’t suppose to read my text messages. Stop being a nosey brat. And thats- creepy. Marco isn’t hot. He’s your teacher.” I say, rolling my eyes at her. Hopefully it’s covering the heat that spreading over my face.

“Have you tried telling yourself that?” Hitch says, flipping her hair at me.

“He’s not my teacher.” I retort. I smirk at her- because she  deserves to be skeeved out.

“Gross Jean. You should date him though. Because you walk around like a pining princess” She says, rolling her eyes at me.

“Shut up. Let’s take a picture to send back” I say.

“Yes! Selfie war” Hitch practically growls. She should not be challenged. Ever.

-Yo but can you rival this?-

I text along with the picture that me and Hitch take. We have matching beanies and we are actually smiling.

**-Yes. But right now I rather kick my brothers butt in bowling-**

Marco’s text back makes me smile- because I get that.

“Come on  let’s go eat” I tell Hitch.

“What! No selfie war?” She asks incredulously while getting out of the car.

“Maybe later” I tell her. “Right now I want to hang out with just you” I add on, ruffling her hair.

“You’re a dork” Hitch says, she leans into me though.

♬

November 27th

1PM-

**-Hey do you want to come spend thanksgiving with me and Sash and the fam?-**

Connie’s text message come in, right as I roll over awake. One in the fucking afternoon- a Client kept me up talking until seven in the morning. I am dead to the world.

-I have Hitch and her friend over. We are going to order pizza and apparently watch Mean Girls so I guess I have to pass-

**-Well I would ditch me for a night with Regina George too-**

-Don’t make me text Sasha-

**-Yeah yeah yeah... Stop by the restaurant tomorrow though. We have food for you-**

Of course they do. Connie and Sasha are my surrogate parents with all the shit they feel they have to give me. Which is really fucking weird.

-Will do-

“Hey! Have you checked your text messages?” I hear Hitch call out, I don’t know how she knows I’m awake but it’s probably her freak teenage girl ju-ju.

“Uh- yeah?” I call back. It’s a really weird fucking question. I swipe back into my text messages, away from the chat with Connie and see that Marco has...images sent to him.

What the fuck is going on?

“Hitch, you should start running now” I yell from my room.

I scroll through the text messages.

**-This isn’t over blondie-**

Why the fuck would Marco send that... but it’s followed by a selfie of Marco’s brother  with a passed out Marco in the background. That’s fucking hilarious.

What’s not fucking hilarious is the response that apparently I sent.

-You’re on-

Followed by a picture of me and Hitch. Except I have eyeshadow on my face.... what the-

She’s going to die. There will be no more Dairy Queen. No more driving lessons. No more Marlowe.

**-Game on-**

The last text message is of Marco brushing his teeth while Isaac flips off the camera. Classy. I still like this kid though- because all these pictures are getting saved. Blackmail.

-Be prepared to have one less student-

I send a text to Marco because he deserves to know that Hitch will no longer be attending school as she will be living in Antarctica... with the penguins and all the other siblings that put makeup on their older siblings. Marco doesn’t text back but instead my phone rings.

“Hey?” I answer. Marco’s calling me- which is weird but not uninvited, I guess.

“Morning sleepy head.” He responds. He sounds a little too fucking chipper until I realize that normal people get up before one in the afternoon and he’s probably still not in bed like me. “Sorry, I need my hands free for cooking so I figured I should call.” He adds.

“It’s fine- I’m being lazy. I’m sending Hitch to a private boarding school in Antarctica for this shit.” I tell him trying to sound marginally angry- but it’s all sort of becoming hilarious which seems to be the effect of getting to talk to Marco- everything becomes a little bit better.

“Oh come on. It’s kinda funny. Though I don’t know how Isaac has been getting ahold of my phone.” Evil teenage ju-ju is what I want to say but I know that he’ll make fun of me.

“Teenagers suck- I fucking woke up with eyeshadow on.” I respond instead. I can practically hear how wide he must be smiling over the phone.

“I saw, really brings out your eyes there princess-” He laughs at me. Of course he’s on board with the calling me a princess. I guess I’m Jean Kirschstein, Princess of all the Fucking Horses.  

“I can’t fucking believe you said that. I hope that Isaac gets ideas and you wake up with your own magical makeover.”

“Hey, I’m only here for one more night. He can’t do too much more damage. At least not right now.” He sounds sad- which makes me feel bad for wishing he would come home- to Trost- sooner.

“You come home- back tomorrow?” I say- and shit, I keep slipping with the home thing. “Trost is really fucking boring- Connie and Sasha have the restaurant and you took a trip to the lesbian state so..” I want to say that I miss him, because I really do, but that’s really fucking needy.

“Don’t have any hobbies to keep you busy- Ouch!” I hear him yelp. “Fucking.. Jesus Christ-”

“Marco?! Are you okay!?” I say a little louder than I probably needed to. So many things could be going wrong and I can’t help when he’s not here with me.   

I hear laughing, and  I don’t know whether to calm  down or get angrier.  “Yeah yeah yeah. I’m fine.” he says.

“What happened?” I ask him. There’s still horrible images running through my head of kitchen related accidents.

“I accidentally burnt my hand on the pan I just took out of the oven.”

“Oven mitts. Use them” I respond, because seriously.

“It’s the last one so I’m safe.” Marco says sounding amused.

“What in the world are you even making?”

“Casserole and pumpkin pie.” Fuck that sounds good.

“I miss food” I practically whine. I can’t go over to the restaurant today and eat there- and me and Hitch didn’t go grocery shopping so there’s nothing in the fridge. Fuck.

“Don’t you have leftovers?”

“Me, Hitch, and Mina, ate all of them and then passed out in a food coma” I tell him.  Last night was rough- I didn’t think that we could eat all the food that Sasha and Connie left behind but with me taking on the bulk of it, Mina followed behind, out eating Hitch, which was a fucking surprise. She also managed to beat me in monopoly which I thought she was too fucking sweet and shy to do but she wiped the floor with both Hitch’s and my ass.

“Oh my god Jean. You should have saved some for Thanksgiving.” He’s probably right but I won’t tell him that.

“We are eating pizza” I tell him instead.

“How festive.” I can hear the sarcasm dripping off his voice- but really did he  expect anything else from me?

“Yeah because I’m downright jolly”

“Right right. Happy Thanksgiving though.”

“You too... I should go.. Hitch wants me to take her out driving again” I tell him, even though I’m totally thinking that she doesn’t deserve to go.

“Okay, be safe out there…. please.” Marco says. His voices changes slightly and I really want to ask him what’s wrong but I’m probably just being paranoid.

“Yes mom. See you soon” He hums in response to me, like he wants to say something but lets a moment of silence pass instead.

“Bye.” He says and ends the call before I can say bye too. I hate saying goodbye so I guess it’s for the best.

♬

5PM-

The doorbell rings- which is odd because almost no one rings the doorbell,they just knock. But the pizza must be here early.

“Sweetie!” My mother says when I open the door, am I’m glad I didn’t spill a slew of curses because she was the last person I was expecting to show up on my doorstep on Thanksgiving.

“...Mom...what are you doing here?” I ask dumbly. My mind is having trouble processing her. She looks actually put together, dressed in her tiffany blue coat that started the great fight of 2005 between her and my father, and her hair is braided around her head. She looks sober- which is a relief but also sort of exhausting to think about.

“Oh Jean, way to welcome your mother.” She says, pulling me into an awkward hug, the pan she’s holding in digging into my ribs.

“Sorry. I’m just- surprised.” I manage to say.

“Mom?” I hear Hitch say behind me. Great.

“Hon, what are you doing here? I thought you were with Marlowe or Mina... whichever one” She says, her words trailing off towards the end. She was probably drunk when Hitch told her.

“Mina is here. I got them tickets to a concert they really wanted to see yesterday...So I picked them up.” The lie falls easily from my lips. On any other day I would really like to rub it in her face how much she’s fucked up her children but today I can’t- she’s already here, Hitch is standing behind me, and Mina is in the house.

“Oh” Is all she says. I can see the momentary hint of rage that passes over her face as she feels lied to or betrayed or whatever bullshit excuse she would give herself when she picks up the bottle next. She takes a minute to recover and I sort of hope that she decided to leave but instead she says “Well, can I come in? I brought brownies”

“Uh-yeah. Um... Of course” I say. I look behind me and Hitch is staring wide eyed at me. Shit. Well know I know the quickest way to ruin a holiday. My mom pushes past me, into the house and walks around until she finds the kitchen. I don’t really want her here so I don’t give her a tour.

“So we are eating pizza” I say quietly. She’s gonna fucking love this...

“Really Jean that’s how you are going to spend a holiday, I thought I raised-” She begins and I sigh, uncaring if she hears. I’m an adult, I really don’t need her. “That sounds fun sweetie” She says after she cuts her sentence short. She either needs something from me or is trying really hard.

“Yeah, should be here soon.” I say. “Is dad coming?”

“Your father is currently fucking the little slut from his office- not the last one but the new one, her name is Jasmine...very exotic right” My mother says, people say I have a bad mouth on me, I’m a saint compare to my mother who will drop courses with no hesitation. Almost even more so when she’s sober.

“Right” Is all I can muster to say to her. I take the brownies from the counter and I feel almost angry at them- brownies were maybe the one good memory I had with my mom and now I just have this.  “The living room is across the hall if you want to sit” I add- please go into the living room. I need a second to compose myself.

“Nonsense. Let me cook something. Piazza's fine but we can spice it up I’m sure.” She says, slipping her coat off her shoulders and placing it on the stool after flipping her sunglasses up off her face.

“Mom- I- okay” I resign. I really don’t want to fight with her. There’s nothing really to cook in the house but I’m sure she'll pull something from somewhere.

“Give me some music Sweetie, just like old times right” my mother says, throwing me a smile and just like that, with the quirk of her expression I’m seven years old again- we’re making brownies, dancing around the kitchen in France and everything is okay just for a moment.

♬

9PM-

“Me and Mina-” Hitch begins to say but I cut her off because I like to be annoying.

“Mina and I..” I correct and as I scroll through client files on my laptop.

“Whatever asshole, Mina and I are going to play pool downstairs and you know talk about boys and unicorns and shit” She says.

“Okay, I’ll leave you too it.” I say, not looking up from my files. “Uh- hold on. How did mom seem to you tonight?” I ask.

“Almost normal...” Hitch says carefully, I look up to see she’s holding the gallon container of ice cream and two spoons.

“Right. It’s weird”

“It’s mom” She shrugs, walking downstairs.

I really want to talk to Marco- that’s what I want to do. I really want to tell him about all the crazy shit that’s gone on these past few days. I just want to sit next to him on the couch and watch 24 and decompress.

-I meant to ask if you were okay.-

-the xrays and what not-

Marco responds a few seconds later to my text messages.

**-yeeah. I’m fine.-**

**-Mom just over worries-**

-Okay…-

**-Yupp-**

-Yeah?-

**-Jean-**

I have no idea where he’s going with these text messages because he sounds like he’s drunk texting- holy fuck- Marco drunk. I debate letting his continue his stream of consciousness texts but instead I hit the call button.

“Marco?” I ask, because he didn’t respond when the call picked up.

“Polo.” He laughs. Wow, really? He is drunk.

“Are you kidding me? Marco… are you drunk?” I ask.

“I’m not drunk Jean. I only had a few glasses of wine because Ymir.” He is totally drunk. A ‘few’ glasses of wine for Marco is probably like five shots for me.

“A few....Not drunk at all.” I say jokingly.

“Shut up. Don’t make me hang up.” He threatens.

“You wouldn’t hang up on me.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“Wow.. so you hate me all the time?” I ask, joking with him again.

“Nah man. Just some of the time.” He says. Just some of the times- interesting...

“How do you feel about me the other times?” I ask him.

“You’re my best friend so I dunno.” I bite my tongue to keep from saying something really dumb because there are so many things that I could say that probably don’t need to be said. Really sentimental, dumb things.

“You should sleep Marco Polo” I tell him. I don’t want to stop talking to him but I’m sick of trying not to say dumb shit. I shut my laptop down because there is no point in trying to work while I’m talking to Marco- it’s too distracting. The couch- the couch is a much better place.

“It’s too early to sleep. Tuff’s the only one who’s tired.” He murmurs.

“It’s never too early to sleep- Tuff has the right idea” Somedays I wish I could be a cat- they don’t have to have jobs and they get to sleep all day. Cats also don’t get called horse face.

“Says the guy who sleeps in the middle of the day. Cause you have a messed up job that I hate.”

“You are very candid when you have a few glasses of wine” I tell him. I don’t tell him that I like it though. He doesn’t need to know that right now.

“It was two.” Marco tries to defend himself.

“Lightweight” I practically snort.  

“I’m not drunk. And yes I am a lightweight. And beer tastes nasty.”

“No one said anything about beer”

“So?”

“Booze on the mind- if only I was there to see it”

“Not much to see. I’m literally curled around a cat in bed.”

“How are you  so adorabl- How are you an adult?” I catch myself before I call Marco adorable.

“I ask myself that everyday.”

“Same” Except he’s probably in disbelief that he’s allowed to do adult things that are fun and I just fucking hate homeowning and responsibilities

“How are Connie and Sasha?”

“The fucking restaurant business is trying to smother them but I'm pretty sure Sasha and Connie will beat the shit out of anything that gets in their way.”

“You give them my number yet?”

“Sasha has it- Good luck”

“Tell her to text me tomorrow or something.”

“Will do... I put you in her phone as the pie rejecter” I laugh, because I can just imagine the face he’s making.

“Why are you so mean.” He practically whines over the phone. Man, he really needs to go to bed. Drunk Marco is too adorable for me to be around- it’s not even boner material, drunk Marco falls along the lines of ‘your cute, lets go grocery shopping’ because I have a twisted mind.

“Yeah but I’m your best friend”  I retort.

“But you’re mean. Like Ymir.” Ymir is scary, I’ll give him that because I’m not entirely convinced that she won’t slit my throat in the night.

“Ymir fucking terrifies me man” I admit.

“She’s like my second mom. I love her lots.”

There’s something about being around Marco or talking to him that always has me falling. The irony of it is disgusting but all I can think about as my face lays pressed against the floor. I didn’t think I made that much of a noise when I feel but apparently Marco heard.

“Jean?” I hear through the receiver of the phone. “You okay princess?” He adds, laughing softly.

I pull myself off the floor and lean against the couch,  “I’m not a princess… Jesus Christ.”

“Are you okay Jean?” He asks, I can concern in his voice. Shit, I’m worrying him.

“I fucking fell off the couch.” I admit.

“Sorry I’m not there to fail at catching you.”

“It’s okay freckles.” I say. There’s a long pause between us. I don’t know what to say to him because everything I could say feels really wrong. I want to tell him that I miss him, and I don’t really miss anyone. Not usually.

“Can you not work tonight?” He says all of a sudden.

“I’ll be bored as hell”

“Aren’t you always around one and two am anyways?”

“Yeah which is why I text you pictures of cats and shit”

“When I actually needed sleep.” He say. He may need sleep but I need him. I can’t tell him that because it’s selfish and he doesn’t want me.

“Whatever.. sleep is stupid” My body betrays me because I yawn.

“Liar. If I go to sleep, then will you?” He bargains.

"How will I know if you go to sleep?"

"Because I feel like I'm gonna pass out right now."

"Fine. I'm walking to bed now." I say, because I probably could go to sleep right now. I let the phone rest between my ear and shoulder as I turn off the downstairs lights and head up to bed.

"Promise?" He asks. Which makes me laugh.

"Yeah yeah. Sure." I tell him- even though I actually am going to sleep.

"You're lying." He says, I can practically hear him pouting.

"I would never lie to you." Which is sort of a lie- but I don’t want to lie to Marco ever. And that’s a start- not wanting to lie. I collapse into bed and hit the FaceTime button because I feel like he’s just going to keep thinking I’m not going to go to sleep if I don’t.

"See, look." I say when the image of him appears on my phone. He’s in bed nuzzling Tuff. More reasons I wish I was a cat.

"Okay, okay."

"Tuff's cute." I tell him.

"She's my baby." He says.

“Hitch really wants me to get a cat or a dog” I say as I get under the covers, thinking of how many times Hitch has sent me pictures of animals with the caption ‘this could be ours but you playing’.  

“Hmm.... Are you going to get one?” He asks me.

“Maybe- I’m allergic to cats but it’s not really a big deal so- maybe..” I admit. I feel weird telling him that I have allergies. He says something back to me but I can’t hear him, he’s disappeared behind the body of Tuff.

"All I hear is cat fur." I say, as I hear Marco yawn .

"I said, go to bed."

“I’m in bed” I say back immediately. I like being difficult wit him.

“Go to sleep.” He corrects.

"You go to sleep."

"Okay. Fine.... Goodnight" Shit. I didn’t actually want him to go to sleep.

"Night. Get home safe." I say.

“I will. Bye.”

“Bye." I say half heartedly. I don’t end the call though because I have no self control and Marco is still resting his cheek on top of Tuff, his eyes closed. He looks up after a few moments and smiles before hitting the end call button.

**-Dude want to help out tomorrow?-**

It takes me a second to register who's texting me. But it’s Connie- Connie, talking about the restaurant.

-Sounds good. I have shit to tell you man-

**-Oh man. 11 work?-**

-Yup... I’m actually going to sleep now so I’m getting a full nights rest-

**-Woah... how are you managing that?-**

-Marco.-

**-Wow you do have a lot to tell me-**

I wish I had more to tell him- I wish there was more about Marco, specifically, to tell him.

♬

November 28th

1PM-

“You should ask Marco to date night” Sasha says, kicking her feet up on the counter and sipping her ice tea. How she’s drinking a cold drink after being outside in the snow, unloading boxes, I have no fucking clue.

“First of all Sash, you invited him to play, so I can’t ask him out to a gig he’s working, and second, he doesn’t want to date me.” I tell her, rolling my eyes and placing my hands on the burning cup of coffee.

“Is he dating someone?” Sasha says, raising her eyebrows at me and cutting me another piece of monkey bread. “Is that who that guy he was in here with was?”

“He said they weren’t on a date” I say, biting my lip.

“You don’t believe him?” She says, cutting her own piece of monkey bread this time.

“It’s not my place to question it”

“Wow- Jean Kirschstein, being polite” Sasha says smirking. I love how she knows me so well after such little time.

“I’m a saint” I shrug as Connie chooses the best time to walk up behind us.

“Hardly” he laughs. I feel the back of my head being flicked by him.

“Fuck- Oh so, my mom came to dinner last night” I say to Connie, turning towards him.

“Shit man. How’d that go?” He says, sliding into the booth next to me.

“It was really fucking weird. Apparently my dad is fucking his secretary Jasmine, which my mom loves to talk about, but I also know that she’s having an affair with someone names Bill so I really don’t get why she’s so mad. But beside all the adultery, she was sober” I tell him, letting my head fall against the back of the booth.

“Your family weird man” Connie says. “But my mom and dad decided to tell me they are getting a divorce at Thanksgiving. So it went hey everyone, you remember Sasha right.No we aren’t married. No she’s not pregnant. Yes we own a restaurant. Oh wow you are getting divorced?” He says, putting on different voices because only Connie could make a conversation that depressing, this amusing.

“Sounds like a fun night” I nod in mock sincerity.

“Oh yeah it was swell” Sasha chimes in.

“Oh so Marco’s coming over in like thirty minutes” Connie says. Seriously.

“I have to leave in like ten minutes” I say, staring  at Connie.

“Hey, he’s not coming here for you” Sasha says laughing.

“Ask him out if you want to spend time with him” Connie adds on. The two of them are the devil together.

“He doesn’t want to date me” I repeat to Connie what I’ve already said to Sasha .

“Oh so that blonde haired guy was his boyfriend” Connie says, looking to Sasha.

“I hate you both” I tell them, rubbing my temples.

“I love you too Jean” Sasha and Connie say together. Freaky fucking couple telepathy.

“Okay, I’m going to go so that I can actually get to this meeting on time” I say, standing up.

“What are you even going to do?” Connie asked.

“I’m finding a car for Hitch” I say, looping my scarf around my neck.

“Oh man, she’s going to be a terror on the road” Connie says.

“Shut up” Sasha says. “She’ll be fine. Oh, and she’s coming in for an ‘interview’ to be a waitress tomorrow” she adds.

“Yeah she told me. Remember to give her a hard time” I tell Sasha, before bending down to give her a side hug. “Bye guys, don't burn anything down”

♬

5 PM

The car dealership fucking robbed me blind. A simple four door car turned into a new trendy convertible for Hitch. It will be the fucking best present she could get for her sixteenth birthday and I can’t wait to give it to her but being twenty thousand dollars lighter is an interesting feeling. Especially when all you have to show for it is a piece of paper since the actual car has to stay at the lot until it’s her birthday.

I shoot Marco a text because I hate that I missed seeing him at the restaurant.

-Want to hang out?-

**-Sure... I'm just now leaving Connie and Sasha’s-**

-I’m really close to there, want to go to dinner somewhere? Theres a place that Connie and Sash wanted me to scope out-

**-Im not hungry but I’ll still come with you-**

Oh yeah, Sasha and Connie probably made him eat until he had to puke.

-I can just eat leftovers... Ill save it for another day-

-we can hang at my place, if you want. I’ll pick you up-

**-Alright, I’ll be sitting outside then-**

I see Marco before I even stop moving the car, and of fucking course he’s sitting outside in the fucking cold ass weather.

“Long time no see freckles” I call out, rolling down my window, feeling bad for making him wait in the cold while I got to drive in a heated car.

Marco rolls his eyes and gets in the passenger seat, “It’s been three days- barely. and at least you don’t greet me the way Ymir does when we are going somewhere.” He laughs, buckling his seatbelt. I can only imagine how Ymir greets people after the way that I met her.

“Ymir will always scare me” I say- because she’s like the mean version of Marco.

“She still scares me. But it’s just her.” He smiles softly, “So how were things with you over Thanksgiving?” He asks. Man, do I have shit to tell him.

“Nothing went according to plan. Hitch came home early, with her friend, so I had two teenagers in house, and then my mother showed up. She wasn’t drunk but she managed to divulge all the details of both her’s and my father’s affairs to me over pizza, brownies and stir fry.” I say- probably oversharing. I really don’t care if Marco figures out how fucked up my family is.

“You should have came with me then, cause we had actual real Thanksgiving food that honestly I don’t know how we finished it all that night.” He says- the thought of meeting Marco’s family hitting too close to the domestic fantasies that have been running through my head all week to touch them.

“And I bet Connie and Sasha made you eat food at the restaurant too. I see they sent you home with pizzas too” I add, slowing the car down to approach the fucking four way intersection of doom. I hated this road.

“Yea, I owe them so I took these without a fight.” Marco says, patting the pizzas in his lap.

“I learned to stop fighting them because they will break into your house and just leave the food there if you don’t” I say. Sasha and Connie are crazy enough about food that there is no stopping them if they decide that you need to be fed.

He laughs, “I can see that. So can we agree to never bring up selfie wars around the siblings ever again?”

“Yes. Please. Even if I did get my new contact photo for you from it” I tell him thinking of the picture of Marco with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. I’ll have to thank Isaac for that photo someday.

“Though you started it with the selfie you sent back. And thanks for the idea because you with makeup popping up on my phone will amuse me.” He says. Shit. The fucking make-up photo.

“I hate you” I mutter jokingly.  

“Mhhm.” Marco just hums, leaning back into the chair. “Just a heads up I probably won’t see you most of the month of December because of work.”

“I take it back” I feel my face draw into a frown. Three days was hard enough let alone an entire fucking month.

“That you hate me?” He muses.

“Yup” I respond, turning onto my street, avoiding the icy patches on the road.

“mm that still won’t change my work schedule though.” Marco says. I really want to tell him not to work, like he tells me not too but he doesn’t hate his job.

“Really lame- Oh but I’ll be at Sash and Connie’s date nights helping out and then Taco night of course” I tell him.

“I figured. Which is why I said most of December.” Marco says.

“Stop being logical”

I hear him laugh before saying,  “You should know my answer to that by now Jean.”

“yeah yeah yeah something about being a teacher” I try and mimic his voice because I’ve heard him use the teacher excuse enough times to know exactly how he says it.

“Pfft. Whatever.”

“How was your family?” I ask him. Hopefully it was better than mine- but he does have a mother who reads to and responds to his text messages so there's that.

“Good-Everyone doing well..” Somehow I don’t believe him.

“How are you doing?” I ask instead.

“I’m doing fine Jean.” He says sounding vaguely surprised.  Is it that hard to believe that I care about people?

I pull into the driveway and park, the snow chains protesting against the icy salty mix of slush.  

“Why?” He asks, as he opens the door. He remembered how to open the door from last time which is sort of fucking impressive . It takes me a minute to figure out why he’s asking me why and then I realize he’s asking why I’m asking if he’s okay.

“Because you’re my best friend. At least that ‘s what you called me when you were being a lightweight last night” I say looking at him over the top of the car. I can’t help but laugh at the memory of him on the phone.

He rolls his eyes and smiles, closing the door, “Look, I wasn’t drunk so I meant what I said, you are my best friend, along with Armin.”

“Well you are my best friend along with Connie and Sasha” I say- it’s true- even if I feel dumb saying it.  “Now lets get out of the fucking cold.”

“I can’t outrank those two though.” He says as we walk inside the house. I really want to tell him that he has his moments- like every time he smiles. It’s not that he’s a better friend... he’s just different.

“I bought Hitch a car today” I say instead of saying any of that.

“That’s right, she’s learning how to drive.” Marco says as he hangs up his coat on the empty hook my the door.  Our two coats hanging up next to each other does terrible things for the mind on the fucking topic of Marco and domesticity. I really need to stop myself.

“I’ve been teaching her. I sort of want to burn her license and take back her car though”

“Why’s that?” He asks.

“Because I worry about her without her being behind the wheel of a two thousand pound vehicle. But she’s actually a good driver and I can’t stop her from having a life because I’m scared of her driving a car” I want her to drive because I want her to be able to drive rather than walk but I can’t shake the image of her getting in a wreck which terrifies me.

He smiles softly, “Trust her.. but just let her know that even if she is a good driver.. not everyone else is.” Marco manages to say exactly the wrong thing.

“Yeah...You want something to drink?” I ask him because I need something to do with my hands now. Something to preoccupy my mind.

“Ill just grab a water bottle.” Marco says.

“I have special red solo cups just for you though” I tell him, grabbing a water bottle for him and a beer because I didn’t get to drink anything yesterday with my mom over.  

Marco rolls his eyes and takes the water from me, “I bet you do. But thanks.”

I sort of want to offer up watching 24 but I figure he can’t stay that long because nine at night if when Marco usually goes to sleep and I don’t want to keep him out late. I do want to keep him out late. But I don’t. Instead the couch becomes the number one option. We can talk. I can manage that.

Marco its on the arm of the couch, “Do you need to talk more about your parents..?” He and it’s the fucking last thing I thought he was going to ask.

“Um..” I hear come out of my mouth. I really don’t want to talk about them or think about them.

Marco just watches me for a moment. I’m not looking at him but I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of my face.  “I- look if you don’t want to talk about it that’s okay but.. I’m here to listen because you did say a bit back in the car..” He says.

Shit. Now he feels like he fucked up. I want to talk to Marco but Jesus- he knows how to throw people for a loop.

“No- its- Sorry I wasn’t expecting that. It’s fine. They are just really messed up people who are really shitty parents and I didn’t have to deal with them for a long time until I realized that if I wasn’t dealing with them then Hitch would have to deal with all their shit.” I say. Every time I stumble over my words I want to cringe.

“And that’s where you proved not to be raised like them- Cause- well.. You came back for your sister, if that’s not selfless then I don’t know what is. I still remember when we met for the second time at the Italian restaurant, and you said you thought both of you were mistakes. And I’ll tell you again- you aren’t.” Marco says, taking some time to get his words out. Just like that Marco seems to know exactly what to say.

I feel my breath shake. Fuck I will not cry. Absolutely not in front of  Marco. “Thanks Marco” I say, shrugging off the threat of tears.

“I’m here for you and Hitch, okay?” He says, and I feel his arms wrap around me. What the fuck- I...

My brain is malfunctioning because I can’t process all the things that Marco does to me- because he actually cares. I lean into the hug, allowing myself to have a moment.

“But no homo right?” I ask, needing to cut the tension.

Marco laughs and stands, “No homo.” He hits me with his water bottle and I can’t help but laughing because for some reason me and Marco can have complete one eighties in conversations.

“No homo and the declaration of best friend-ness, it’s like I’m in middle school all over again.” I say, readjusting on the couch.

He rolls his eyes at me, “Mentioning middle school- way to kill the mood there Jean.”

“I didn't know we were in a mood Marco” I say in the most antagonizing voice I can muster.

“We weren’t. But still mentioning middle school though?” He raises an eyebrow even though that’s my thing.  

“Hey I could really scar you and tell you how I had a crush on Connie when I was in middle school for like a week” I say.  “That ended poorly” Especially considering that we both had black eyes on it because instead of dating or whatever middle schoolers did we settled on being each others firsts for both being and getting punched in the face.

“Ah yes. Idiotic crushes, all that fun stuff.” He shakes his head and sits down on the arm of the couch again.

“Will you stop being a weirdo and sit on the couch” I say, grabbing Marco’s wrist and pulling him down on to the couch, scooting over as well so he wouldn’t be practically sitting in my lap when I did.

“I’m not weird.” He makes a face, “It’s just where I usually sit because I move around so much.”

“Whatever” I make a face back at him.

“You should probably help Sasha and Connie out with the date night song list.” He says after a few moments.

“Yes date night... yeah I’ll talk to Sasha about the songs when I see them later this week. I’m making brownies for them again. I think they more than anything just want me to come to date night so that they can try and set me up” I roll my eyes. Sasha and Connie want me to date Marco, but I also think that they want me to just date someone.

“Mm I’m sure they would try and do the same with me if I wasn’t working it…” He pauses and glances to the ground. “Jean?”

“Marco?” Shit. My mind jumps to dark places when he says my name. Not sexy ones- just fucking dark ones. Places where Marco’s angry with me.

“Please trust me on this… okay? I’m not dating Armin.” He says, looking over at me.

“Okay”I nod. I have no idea where this came from.  “It doesn’t matter who you’re dating” I tack on. “But yeah, I believe that you aren’t dating Armin”  

“Or at least now you do.” He shrugs softly, “But okay. Thanks.”

“What did Sasha and Connie say to you?” Because that has to be where this is coming from. Jesus- why are they making this harder for me. I’m getting over Marco they don’t need to make that more complicated.

“Nothing really. Just that everyone is under the impression that I was.”

“Well they are fucking idiots sometime.” I say automatically.

“We are all idiots sometimes.”

“I need that as one of those motivational paintings people hang in their homes” I snort. Hitch would really like that one.

He laughs and shrugs, “Im sure you could find a poster if you reaaaaaly wanted one.”

“I’ll  have Mina paint me one. Hitch’s friends kicked our asses this weekend in monopoly and pictionary.” Which is totally unfair.It’s one thing to beat me in Pictionary, but it’s another to beat me in Monopoly.

“She’s in Hitch’s grade, right?” He asks, “I don’t have her in music classes because she’s a pretty impressive artist.”

“Yeah, she’s also way too sweet compared to Hitch.”

“Hitch just has her own way of being ‘sweet’”

“You can say that again. Speaking of teenagers with their own ways of being sweet. Isaac and Hitch together are a scary combination.”

“Oh god please don’t remind me. I think they are literally the same person just two different genders. It’s scary to think about.”

“They should never meet” Unspeakable things might happen. Like world war three.

“Agreed.” He chuckles and stands up.  “Well. I should get back home to Tuff.”

“Your cats got you so whipped man” I joke. “Can I drive you?” I offer even though I know he’s going to say no.

“I owe her my life, so it’s the least I can do.” He rolls his eyes, “Yes, you can.”

He’s actually letting me drive him... for the second time in one day. What the fuck happened to him over break.

He just smiles and grabs his coat unknowing that my brain is trying to figure out what’s changed in the time that he’s been gone. It doesn’t feel normal which rubs me the wrong way.  “plus my pizzas are in your car.” He says.

“So really it’s for the pizzas... not to spend time with your best friend” I say, grinning at him to cover up my discomfort.

“Shut up. If I didn’t want to hang out with you I would have turned you down and been home by now.” He says as we head to the car.

“Again, too much logic” I tell him.

“I’ll stop being logical when I’m dead.”

“How very melodramatic.”

He rolls his eyes at me and situates the pizza’s on his lap looking like the world’s hottest delivery guy. Fuck my life.

I flip on the radio because I feel myself moving into that territory of if I open my mouth right now dumb shit will come spilling out.

We some how make the whole drive a lot quicker than I thought was possible and I don’t even realize how much time has passed until Marco leans forward and says, “It’s the apartment complex up ahead on the right. 

I nod  in response, I feel bad for not talking more with him but in between my inability to speak without embarrassing myself and having to pay attention to the extra fucking icy roads I can’t hold a conversation. Silence with him is comfortable.

“Thanks.” Marco says as he climbs out of the car. Shit- goodbyes. Again.

“Night... tell Tuff I  say hi” Is all I can manage.

“I will.” He smiles, “Night Jean.”

I wait until Marco gets into his apartment so I know he’s okay which is a pretty weak excuse for watching him walk away and feeling sorry for myself. I’m getting over him. Totally getting over him.


	10. Stolen Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The symphony provides a little bit more than just music to his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took some of the life out of me. I don't know why, but it did.   
> But I got through midterms week and successfully updated the fic only two hours behind schedule so I say everything turned out okay. 
> 
> Hope everyone is having a good week. Stay strong guys, I share the opinion with Jean that winter is hard, but spring is coming <3

 

November 29th

12PM-

“How’d it go?” I ask Hitch, who stomps into the kitchen, grabs a salad bowl and dumps a unsurprising amount of cocoa krispies and soy milk in it.

“I got the job- and when Sasha asked me what separated me from other candidates I told her that not only was I super cute, but that I was also a kick ass roller skater” Hitch says, not answering until  her mouth is full  of cereal. Of course I know she got the job with Connie and Sasha because hell, she probably knew she was going to get it; but I still want to know how the interview went.

“Wait- she didn’t, did she?” I ask Hitch, feeling my face go wide eyed. Of fucking course Hitch would storm into a restaurant, get a job, and make everything more difficult.

“Yup!” Hitch says, grinning widely. “The Impastas now has service on skates- which means I get new roller skates. Sasha said it was a wonderful idea.”

Jesus christ- Hitch was in the restaurant for all of thirty minutes and she managed to get Sasha to sign onto roller skating servers. What the fuck kind of black magic does Hitch possess.

“You are scary” I mutter. I don’t really think I want her to hear it but she does because she rolls her eyes at me and takes another huge spoonful of cereal.

“At least I’m not a dumb princess horse face, wannabe punk with a nipple piercing” She says, raising an eyebrow at me. Why the fuck do I have a younger sibling? Because you couldn’t survive your parents without her jackass.

Great now I’m having internal dialogue with myself.

Hitch is staring at me when I register that she is talking to me.

“What?” I ask, not having heard what she said last.

“Where did you go?” Hitch says, answering my question with a question because nothing can be simple with her.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. So you can’t come to the symphony then- I assume you are working.” Her eyes light up- because of course when I told her she had to come with me she moped around and said  three hours of music sounded lame and boring.

“Yeah- sorry bro... no can do. I’m a working woman now” Hitch says, giving me what I think is suppose to look like an innocent smile but instead he just sort of looks possessed as her eyes roll back into her head and she grins, showing off her teeth. It’s perfectly Hitch.  

“Yeah yeah yeah... I’m sure you are so full of remorse. I’ll just ask Marco” I say.

Hitch makes a “oooooohhh” sound, like I just said some double entendre where taking Marco to the symphony meant fucking him. I fucking wished it did. Shit, no I don’t. Marco is just a friend.

“Me and Marco aren’t happening” I mutter. I can hear how ridiculous my voice sounds and I just hope to fucking god that Hitch doesn’t say anything about it.

“Yeah right, Kirschstein’s are irresistible” I can tell she’s smirking from the way she’s talking but I can’t fucking look at her. I feel the a soggy cocoa krispie hit me in the cheek. Hitch, of course, as I guessed is smirking at me when I look up from the countertop.

“He’s my friend” I say. I sound pathetic. I really sound pathetic.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be your lover bro. I mean me and Marlowe-” She starts. Hell no- not listening to this.

“HITCH.” I cut her off, giving her my clearest ‘you need to never start a sentence with the phrase me and Marlowe again’ face. His hair is too ugly for her- and nope, Hitch is still twelve.

“ What? I was just going to say that me and Marlowe have been making bets for when you two will get together.” Yeah fucking right. Hitch just smirks and rolls her eyes. Of course she does.

“You shouldn’t talk about Marco and his personal life with other students” I say, more automatically than anything. I don’t want to make Marco uncomfortable- ever... again.

“Whatever bro, just text him.” She says, flicking another piece of cereal at me.

“Hitch, stop fucking flinging fucking cereal everywhere” I snap, all but growling. This house is never ever going to stay clean. Not when Hitch goes through enough dishes for a small nation each day, and Connie feels the need to come play xbox and destroy the basement at odd hours of the night.

“Sorry, I’ll clean up,” Hitch replies in a mechanical voice. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. I didn't even realize how I sounded until I saw her face- I fucking sound like our father.

“No it’s fine- I’m sorry” I respond quickly, she doesn’t need this here. My house is suppose to be safe from their crazy. I can hear the pleading in my voice. I hope she can too.

“Jean it’s fine. I know you didn’t mean it.” She says, her voice wavering. “I’m going to go take a bath.” She adds, before I can say anything and abandons her cereal and disappears upstairs.

I am a terrible fucking brother.

I want to drink- but that would just make me a fucking worse brother. My fingers twitch, wanting nothing more than to grab a beer from the fridge. I grab my phone instead. Marco- I can text Marco.

-A client gave me tickets to the symphony that is in town.... Do you want to go?-

He replies almost immediately and I feel the weight that was sitting on my shoulder evaporate, just a little bit. If I can calm down, I can talk to Hitch.

**-When?-**

 

-It's tomorrow night..-

-I know it's short notice-

I let my head shlump to the counter because it it short notice and he probably can’t make it.

**-no it's okay. I could use one good night before school starts back up-**

Oh thank the fucking lord.

-awesome-

-it's not supposed to be the frozen hell-scape that Trost usually is so we can walk if you want-

 

**-that would be great. Mostly for you-**

**-with the cold and all-**

I’m glad he knows how to lighten the mood because I can feel myself smiling and sitting up. Marco has me so fucked but I can’t even care. I need him however I can get him, so if he wants to be friends, I’ll be his best fucking friend.

-yeah yeah yeah freckles-

-also apparently it's "formal" attire-

**-no problem for me. Considering I am always wearing formal-**

**-hey, I get to see you dress nice for once-**

**-how 'formal' is it?-**

His three text messages come in rapid succession, and I can imagine just the way he would say each one of them. He would sigh at the fact that he’s almost always in formal wear. He would be poking fun at me when he tells me I don’t look great all the time, and he would probably be scratching the back of his neck when he asks exactly how formal it is. It’s a blessing and a fucking curse how easily my mind can construct the image of Marco. It’s nice to know that I know him, but when the images of him send pooling heat to my stomach and have me jacking it like I’m thirteen again, it’s  a fucking curse.

I apparently hate myself, because my mind zeros in on the idea of his hands again, pressing into my sides, and my hips and, my ... fuck. Shit. I have to text him back-

-I always look nice!-

-And I’m wearing a suit I guess-

**-So full on formal-**

**-And I’m sure you do Jean-**

-Damn right I do-

**-So what time?-**

-Starts at 7.. so I’ll meet you at 6:15?-

**-Sounds good-**

-Meet in front of Connie and Sasha’s?-

**-Can do-**

-See you tomorrow then?-

**-Mhhhm see you.-**

I don’t know if Marco is the best thing that’s ever happened to me or the worst. On one hand, and I would never fucking admit this, he made my entire day better. But, he could also ruin me.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear a thunk upstairs- the loud crash of something falling in the bathroom. My mind darts to Hitch, and my legs start moving on their own accord, dragging me up the stairs.

“Hitch?!” I call out, standing with my ear pressed to the bathroom door.

“I’m fine- I’m fine. There’s no flipping bathmat and it’s slippery but I caught myself.” I hear her call, her voice muffled by the sound of water hitting the bathtub.

“Okay- Jesus fucking Christ. You scared the shit out of me.” I say, letting my head roll across the wood of the door, my eyes pinched tight. It’s going to be a fucking miracle if I don’t die from stress. Ideally I would be able to just sit in a fucking tower, far away from life and responsibilities, but no, I have to come back here and worry.

“We can talk in a little bit” Hitch calls out again.

I can do this. I can talk to Hitch. Of all people I can talk to Hitch.

♬

3PM-

I should be working- sure I can’t talk to anyone overseas because it’s three in the morning but theres paperwork that I could be doing. But I’m not.

“Jean..?” I hear Hitch say. Her voice is soft and coming from right outside my bedroom door.

“Come in” I say, sitting up in bed. I can talk to her- this is something I can do, because it’s Hitch.

“I’m okay- I know you didn’t mean it” She says. I couldn’t love her more in this moment- with her hair sticking out from her head in every wild direction as it dries, wearing one of my college shirts. She sits cross legged on the end of my bed and I can’t look at her. I’m turning into my fucking father. An asshole- someone who gets mad enough to snap over cocoa krispies.

“Yeah-” Is all I can say. I feel the bed shift but keep my eyes trained on the ceiling, letting my head sink lower and lower into the edge of the pillow.

“Hey Jean really, I love you. You are the best brother in the world” I hear Hitch say. Now I can’t look at her because my heart fucking hurts. It weighs a hundred pounds and I swear I’m a child again- not able to deal with feelings. If I look at her I’ll cry.

I feel her lean against me, her hair sticking up in my face and the bulk of her weight pressing into my shoulder.

“I love you too. I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner,” I say softly, leaning towards her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Hitch says, her words overlapping mine. I fucking hate that she thinks any part of this is something she needs to feel sorry for, or that any part of it is her fault.

“You’re fifteen” I say. It’s more to myself than her. She’s fifteen and she’s fucking dealing with all our parent’s shit,and she’s not getting high or drunk like me to do it.

“Yeah and you’re not that much older Jean so fucking cut yourself a little bit of slack. I hate seeing you like this. You look like you are going to keel over and die from stress.” Hitch says more forcefully pulling away from me.

“Okay.” Is all I can say. She’s right. She’s fifteen, and she’s crazy, and a little fucking scary, but she’s right.

Hitch gives me a look of dissatisfaction and doesn’t say anything. Apparently I can’t get away with one word answers- even if they do have two syllables.

“I’m going to quit my job- not right now, but by the end of next year.” I tell her. I didn’t want to tell anyone. I really don’t know if I can quit my job because what the fuck else am I going to do?

“Really?” Hitch says, and fuck- she gets this smile that spreads across her face that I really only thought I would get from her when I showed her the car I got her for her birthday.

“Really,” I respond. I can feel my own face pulling into a grin, because Hitch’s smile is infectious. We have to be doing something right, to get two people who don’t smile that much to both smile.

“So now that we got all this feeling shit out of the way.... Dairy Queen?” Hitch says, raising an eyebrow at me.

I can’t help but laugh- we are so much alike sometimes it’s scary.

“Only if you brush your hair,” I tell her, mimicking the face she’s making by raising my own eyebrow.

Hitch flips me off before rolling off the bed, dragging the blanket with her.

“I bet I can get ready faster than you, pretty boy” She calls as she runs out of the room. Thank god for Hitch. She keeps me sane.

♬

November 30th

6PM-

The door jingles overhead as I walk through the door of The Impasta’s- that’s new. Everyday I walk in this restaurant it’s another thing that Sasha and Connie have added. There’s chrome everywhere, paired with new vinyl and the lights have been dimmed considerable for dinner service, letting the retro neon signs hanging up on the walls give off multi-colored glows. It looks like an classic dinner is trying to pull off swanky dinner service- but somehow it works. The room is about three quarters full- and the jukebox is playing fucking “What’s new Pussycat”, which I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why Sasha and Connie allowed into their restaurant. It’s a fucking dumb song, and no one can tell me otherwise.

It’s early which is why I’m genuinely surprised to see Marco- it’s barely six o’clock and he’s with his back towards me at the high counters, looking like he’s been there for a least ten or so minutes.  

“Come here often?” I ask, walking up behind him. I can’t resist, because we- or at least I- seem to dance around the half flirting, half joking thing that we do.  

Marco turns in his chair, and immediately starts blushing for some ungodly fucking reason. He wants to torture me.

“Woah- You clean up nice-” Marco says, really... I clean up nice? My eyes track his and he seems to be checking me out, whether he knows it or not. This night is going to be great- as long as I can keep my raging gay thoughts about Marco to myself.

“I always look good.” I say, sitting down next to him and nudging him lightly in the ribs. I always look good- I don’t even give a shit if he mocks me for it.

“Mhhm.. whatever you say.” Marco says. His eyes are still flitting to different parts of my body and face until he reaches a hand forward and smooths down my hair.

I feel myself laughing because Maro and I’s friendship is so weird. So fucking weird.  “Marco, I have to say. I’m disappointed in your idea of formal wear,” I mockingly chastising him for wearing jeans and a t-shirt for formal wear.

Marco blushes for what has to be about the third time tonight, and really challenges me self control, before saying, “Shut up. I’ve been here for about twenty minutes.”

“I still need to change,” Marco says, standing up and leaning over to grab his bag. Arm snake around me and the impact of something hitting me from behind startled the shit out of me.  

“Hey bro. Why so dapper? Hot date?” I hear Hitch’s voice in my ear. She’s going to shave years off my life if she keeps startling me.  

“Nope, I would hardly call Marco a hot date,” I lie.

“But I am apparently eye candy.” Marco calls out, apparently in the time I had been preoccupied with Hitch scaring the shit out of me, Marco had started making his way to the bathroom.

“Wait- Eye candy? Who’s calling you eye candy!?” I call after him- because usually when he makes jokes its about jokes that I’ve made about him. And I haven’t called him eye candy. Who the fuck has been calling him eye candy?

I feel jealousy flood over me, which is exactly not what I needed.

“I’ll get you a water, you look thirsty” Hitch says amused, flicking me on the back of my head. She laughs as she skates away and I know I totally missed something.

"Hey he totally is" Sasha says, skating out of the kitchen. Jesus christ, she’s on roller skates as well. “He’s totally eye candy Jean,” She reiterated, as she skates past me to a table behind me.

“Don’t you agree Helen” She says, leaning down towards and elderly woman sipping on a cocktail.

"The booty on that one was magnificence," the woman says smiling. Sasha, turns to me and raises her eyebrows suggestively. Between her and Hitch, the fucking devil lives at the Impasta’s.

“You should name this place The Inferno” I mutter.

“Only when my changes to Dante, my love” Sasha says shaking over to me and kissing me on the top of the head.

“Sasha,” I groan- which makes her laugh harder. “I hope you fall on your ass,” I add under my breath, not succeeding in anything but making her start laughing and snorting. She’s really a princess.

Sasha starts skating away from me towards the kitchen, but turns around to say, “Stay gold pony boy, stay gold.”

I’m never going to escape this fucking nickname. Ever. I contemplated chasing after Sasha, or possibly just going to make Connie’s life a living hell for starting the pony shit but Marco comes out of the bathroom and jesus fucking christ there are sights that should be illegal to see in public.

I let out a low whistle, because if he can say things like ‘you clean up nice’ than I can push his buttons a bit too.

“Are you disappointed in my formal wear now?” he asks, sitting back down.

“You’ll do.” I say, because joking with him is probably better than a fucking sonnet on how not disappointed I am with how he look. Instead of letting my mind starting to conjure up anything special, I lean towards him and whisper, “The woman behind us thinks you have a great ass.”

Any tension that is caused by our faces being millimeters apart- and I really wish I could just lean over and kiss him- is erased as he bursts into laughter, pulling his face away from mine, and turns to look at Sasha, “Sash, can I leave my bag in the back?”

"Of course- hey looking sharp" Sasha says looking over at Marco from the window that connects the kitchen and the dining space.

Marco thanks her in almost a bashful way, and stares down at his cup of water, swirling the ice around in it.

“So… I know nothing about symphonies.” I say trying to start a conversation.

“It’s pretty much an orchestra- if that term makes any more sense.” He says, smiling. Right, symphonies, just like orchestras... that clears so much up.

“Um- I know what a piano is,” I roll my eyes and hear a laugh bubble to my lips. I laugh a lot when I’m around him, my face is going to start and get sore.

“You’ll just have to see then,” Marco says shrugging.

“You’ll have to explain,” I retort, mostly because I like hearing him talk.

“No, you’ll just have to listen.” Marco says, rolling his eyes at me.

“I’ll feel the music in me.” I say mockingly.

“So how did you get tickets again? Cause these are usually pretty expensive to go to.” Marco says, ignoring me.

“I have clients that send me holiday gifts. Which totally makes me sound like a stripper.” I say. I would make a great stripper- but the hours wouldn’t change so...

He leans forward onto his chin and asks, “So did no one else want to come with you?” It’s a miracle I even hear his fucking question because he’s looking at me and his stupid fucking eyes are mesmerizing.

I physically shake my head to clear away the gay thoughts. Great. It’s like high school, all over again.

"Well hitch had work and I figured you would appreciate it most," I say truthfully. Sasha and Connie have the restaurant but I probably wouldn’t have asked them anyway, Connie’s idea of a symphony is farting to the tune of classical music and Sasha plays music like ‘What’s New Pussycat”.

He smiles, “Well you figured right. Last one of these I went to was in college.”

"You went to symphonies and I went to keggers.” College must of been so different for him.

“I… what?” He tilts his head and my mind automatically goes to the first time he texted me and didn’t know what getting baked was. How is he an adult?

"What? You know what a kegger is right..." I ask, skeptically.

“Noo…….??” Marco admits. Jesus Christ, it should be illegal for me to be anywhere near him.

"Oh man, I got to get you drunk" I laugh, sliding off my stool, thinking to how mouthy he is when he’s had a ‘few’ glasses of wine.

“Please no..” He mutters and grabs his bag to go set it in the back.

"You ready to go?" I ask him, I smooth out the edges of my jacket and see Marco unrolling his  sleeves of his shirt.

“Yea. Let me go put this in the back.” He says and walks off, returning a few seconds later, “Ready.”

"We'll stop by after the show" I call to Hitch and Sasha, as we head towards the door. It feels like I’m about to leave the kids home alone.

I side step around a patch of ice, because I’m not fucking falling again. "Maybe we'll make it without falling" I say, looking over at Marco.

“Hopefully.” He laughs, “The ice isn’t too bad today.”

"I can't wait for spring" I mumble. It’s the one season I like in Trost- it’s not unbearably hot like California.

Marco smiles tightly like he’s about to break bad news and says, "we got about three more months of cold"

"And you called me a mood killer" I mutter.

"There isn't a mood going on Jean so I wouldn't say that" He says. Wrong- the tension between us tonight is fucking palpable whether he knows it or not.

I laugh and change the subject instead of contradicting him, "Have you been in this theater before?"

"No, considering I haven't been here long" he shrugs.

"My father designed it a long time ago"

"Impressive. Well- for anyone who can design buildings" He says- it is impressive, the building was from my dad was actually good at his job. When he would do his job rather than just his secretaries.

"Less impressive. It's just a fact. But the jobs why we moved back here when Hitch was born" I say, leaving the bit out about the secretaries.  

"Are you bothered by that fact then?" Marco asks- I can hear the caution in his voice.

"Naw, I would say some pretty good things came out of moving to Trost" I try and lighten the mood by winking. It’s true though, Trost made me and Hitch closer and it introduced me to Marco.

Marco smiles softly, "Yea. I can say the same thing"

"Really? Tell me all the great things about Trost" I say, egging him on.

"Oh?" He laughs, "well, I get to work at a place I love, I've met some great people like my co-workers along with Connie and Sasha."

"Right,” I say nodding, bumping into him as an excuse to be closer.

"Then we got you who likes to wake me up in the middle of the night" He say, grinning at me.

"I apologize for keeping you up all night," I grin back and raise my eyebrows at him. God I wish I was keeping him up all night.

"Mhm I'm sure you're sorry- I don't mind through". He says, rolling his eyes. I pull him down the back alley towards the theater, not even thinking about how it might be weird to pull someone down a backstreet until Marco points it out.

"Jesus- why are we walking through here?" Marco says, looking around the alley. Honestly it’s not that bad- but Trost is relatively laid back compared to California.

"Backstage entrance to the theater, we have wing seats," I explain to him.

"But we can't just go through the main entrance like normal people?" Marco says, running his hand along his hairline like  he does when he nervous. My hand twitches to take his, instead I shove my hands in my pocket and finger a the tickets.

"Because normal people don't have really cool tickets like we do and this is what they told me to do" I shrug.

"Fine" Marco says, his eyebrows furrowing together and his nose scrunching back into his face. It’s almost amusing, but I know something is wrong with him.

"What?" I ask before I can stop myself. I usually don’t try and dig into people emotions, but I can’t help myself with Marco- which seems to be a theme around him. Not being able to help myself.

Marco’s mouth twists up a bit before he seems to make an effort to relax and say, "Nothing- I just don't ever like walking through back alleys because it creeps me out."

"But it's cool- We are like super sexy James Bond characters running through back alleys and doing spy shit" I say, trying to lighten the mood.

It seems to work because Marco smiles a little bit and laughs softly, "Pfft. Whatever you say"

"Well I would be James Bond and you would be a Bond girl" I say, poking his side.

"No way- you would be the Bond girl" Marco says, rolling his eyes.

Yeah right, I’m way more debonair and spy like, "What! No... I would totally make a better spy,” I tell him.

"You would fall and get caught!" He laughs at me.

"You would fall with me!" I flip him off.

He just rolls his eyes, "I'll learn to catch you without falling"

"Impossible- everyone falls for me" I say throwing him a purposefully antagonizing look.

"Mhhhhm. Whatever you say princess"

"I hate you" I say through my laughter. Fucking Connie, Hitch, and now Marco with this princess shit.

"No take backs this time though" he smiles, referring to friday night.

"Shut up" I say, bumping into him again. Marco just smiles at me and that fucking smile will destroy my life. But he’s just my friend. My best fucking friend.

♬

10PM

The show, despite being three hours long, which on any other day I would be morally opposed too, was the shortest three hours of my life. I spent the entirety of the show staring at the side of Marco’s face. His face would change with the songs, his mouth falling as the music dipped low, taking somber tones- or his eyes brightening as the instruments picked up tempo. He didn’t take his eyes off the stage until a few moments had passed after the last note was played. I still haven’t taken my eyes off him since the first note played.

When he turns to me finally he looks like he’s just gotten back from the most relaxing vacation in the world- but he’s also looking at me expectantly.

“Well… did you like it?” He asks, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. Another absent habit that I found captivating.

“I loved it.” Is all I can manage to say. The show was amazing- I would go a hundred more times along as Marco was here to watch.

“You know…” Marco starts, turning his gaze back to the musicians filing offstage,  “I wanted to be in one of these once.”

“What changed?” I ask, I’ve heard him play- I can’t judge music but I know when something sounds good and he sounded great.

He shrugs his shoulder and glances back at me, “Life..”  

“Life’s a dick.” I say. I can’t beat up life for him- I wish I could but I can’t- even if my hand twitches, wanting to form a fist.

“Yea. Pretty much.” Marco says quietly, staring at his lap.

“So....We heading back to Connie and Sasha’s?” I ask him, standing up from my seat. Damn, even if the three hours didn’t feel long, my joints fucking felt it.

“Yeah- Maybe grab something to eat?”  He asks.

“It would be impasta-able not to around Connie and Sasha.” I say- Jesus Christ- I’ve started making puns. I’m going to kill Sasha and Connie.

“You’re so lame.” Marco says laughing me. I grab the back of his jacket and pull him along with me as we make our way through the busy backstage area, letting go when we get outside.

The walk is relatively quiet, which I don’t mind. Marco seems to be entranced by the music as we walk down the streets of downtown Trost. I narrowly avoid ice patches and its a god damned fucking miracle.

Connie is leaning at the front podium, scrolling through his phone when we enter the restaurant. There’s only a few booths of people left, and the jukebox is humming music softly in the corner.

“How was the music?” Connie asks, looking more towards Marco than me- at least he knows me well enough not to direct that question at me.

“Fantastic.” Marco says, still smiling. He mumbles something about changing so I lean against podium with Connie.

“How was the date?” Connie asks, quirking an eyebrow at me.

“It wasn’t a date. We are friends.” I say, even I can hear how mechanical I sound.

“We are friends but we don’t eye fuck each other... at least I haven’t noticed if we do” Connie says, giving me a smile that conveys pity more than everything. Fuck him.

“I’m going to go sit down now.”

“Go for it” Connie says, his pitying smile turning into a smirk.

I settle in the two person booth in the corner and take my tie and button down off. If Marco gets to change into casual clothes, I shouldn’t have to suffer this monkey suit and longer. Marco comes out of the bathroom and I’m hard pressed to choose whether he looks better put together or disheveled. To make matters so much fucking worse, he runs his hands through his hair like some fucking male model and I suppress the urge to roll my eyes at my subconscious. He sits down at the table and before I can find anything to say, Hitch skates up, flipping her hair and really pumping up the flair.

“Well well well. If it isn’t my brother dearest and my favorite teacher. Can I get you guys anything to drink. And Marco.” She glances to Marco,  with a snarky grin on her face. “We are all out of water.”

Marco takes her in good humor and reaches a hand up, ruffling her hair, which makes my heart stop for a few seconds. I’m glad that Hitch has someone who cares for her at school.

“Alright Hitch. Can I have a coke then?” Marco says, pulling his hand back to himself.

“That’s only slightly less boring but fine.” She rolls her eyes and looks to me.

“Tell Sasha to surprise me.” I say, not wanting to make a decision.

“See. That’s interesting.” She flashes a grin and twirls before rolling away.

“Hitch is the master of giving people a hard time.” I sigh, propping my feet up on the side of Marco's seat.

“I know I know.” Marco laughs, “Which is why I like having her in class.”

“Well, if she’s ever too much of a dick, I’m sure I could clear my schedule to have an emergency parent teacher conference.”

“And what? Have a repeat of last time?” Marco says, raising an eyebrow.

“Whatever- so it wasn’t my shining moment.” I kick him in the thigh with my foot, because he should know better than to bring up that up.

"Nope. It wasn't." Marco says amused.

"Hey. But I think we turned out alright." I laugh this time- because we did, we turned out alright, considering how much of a fuck up I am. He laughs with me, and it feels good to have another friend.

"Yea. I'm glad though." Marco says, he looks  like he wants to say more but Hitch appears, rolling up with a tray of two drinks in tall glasses, neither of which are Marco’s coke.

"Alright. So Sasha sent these out for you." Hitch says.

“Tell Sasha thanks.” Marco says, he scratches at his hairline again with his index finger and I know he’s lying. I take the glass and I can smell it when it’s not anywhere near my face. Jesus Christ, Sasha’s trying to kill us.

“That’s fucking strong.” I say, after I take a sip. It burns my throat but leaves a fruity after taste in my mouth.

Marco shifts away from the table and crosses his arms, looking like he couldn’t be paid to try the drink and I really don’t blame him.

“Maybe I should never let Sasha surprise me- unless I need to get really fucked up, really fast.” I say, mostly just to say something.

“Never put it past Sasha to do something crazy if you give her the chance I guess.” Marco says, and I feel like he captured Sasha’s personality perfectly. She’s amazing but she’s crazy. Putting her and Hitch together was probably a terrible idea.

“It’s really good- but it’s probably not going to be the type of night where I need all of that.” I say, pushing the drink away. I gave up binge drinking in bars and hooking up when I came here. I don’t need to drink with Marco.

“What type of night is then?” Marco asks and I nearly choke on air- because my mind answers Marcos question. This isn’t a night where I need to be inebriated trying to fuck whatever I can. The image of drunkenly getting fucked by Marco doesn’t make my body react in the way I thought it would...it should...? Instead of the thoughts fueling the pooling of heat low in my gut, the idea rolls over me like a wave of nausea. I don’t want a meaningless night of sex with Marco. At all. Shit. I want-

“Jea-” Marco starts to say. It registers somewhere in my mind, but my hand twitches, pulling itself forward and making me down the drink that Sasha sent me. I can’t think clearly... maybe I don’t want too.

“I’ll be right back.. gotta go talk to Connie.. or something..” I say, not caring what my excuse is, but more just needing something that gets me away from the table.

I stand and hardly register the act of moving, my body moving on autopilot. Hitch throws me a bizarre look but I keep moving. Kitchen- I need to be not here.

“Jean?” Connie asks when I barge into through the swinging doors of the kitchen.

“I- I...” I start to say, but I have so much fucking cluelessness in me- so much energy that doesn’t know what to do. I want to be an asshole and shut down.

My fist connects with the wall and I feel my knuckles protest- I haven’t punched anything in such a fucking long time. I was under control and I just let it all go.

I hear the curses falling quietly from my lips as I cradle my hand and look up to see Connie looking concerned. Shit.

“What in the world happened man?” He asks, walking toward me, his hand falling lightly on the arm that I just had swung into the wall.

“I- I like him.” I say, and my mind is spinning because I like him more than people I’ve said I’ve loved. I like him more than the best relationships I’ve had and I’ve only known him for one fucking month.

“Is this new to you?” Connie asks, his face showing how entirely ridiculous I’m acting.

“I thought is was lusty,  ‘I want to bend you over and fuck you’ not, I want to grocery shop and watch netflix with you” I mutter.

“You are so dense. Jean, stop drinking and punching shit. Go out there, start acting like you aren’t coming unhinged and be his goddamned friend until you can sort yourself out. He likes you, but maybe he can’t admit that to himself in just a month.” Connie says, while he looks at my hand. He’s right. I’m acting psychotic.

“And I never want to hear you talking about bending anyone over” Connie adds, mockingly shuddering.

“Shut up, you’ve talked non stop about your top ten list of most fuckable porn stars” I tell him, pushing his hand away from me.

“Yeah, I recall you having your own list” Connie says, grinning at me.

“It was high school”

“Exactly, now go back out there. Marco probably thinks you’ve ditched him.” Connie says, rolling his eyes at me.

“Thanks man” I tell him. Sometimes I forget how much Connie actually helps me, even if we didn’t talk much during college.

“Just remember who’s your best friend” He smirks at me, punching me lightly in the shoulder.

“You are more like the brother I never had” I say, slapping his hand away.

“Aww shucks” Connie says with a mock southern accent, pulling me into a hug.

“And never wanted..” I add. Connie hits me again and turns to the soda fountain.

“Here take these, and Sash picked out food for you guys so one of us will bring it out in a bit” He says, pushing me towards the door after handing me two cokes.

“I’m going, I’m going” I call as I walk back into the main area of the restaurant.

“Sorry” I apologize to Marco, as I sit down.

“Everything alright?” He asks me.

“Everything is great” I say, because everything is going to be great. I prop my feet back up on the booth next to Marco. “Sasha’s going to bring out food for us- she’s set on not letting us order” I add, smiling at him. I feel calm again.

“Doesn’t surprise me.” He smiles softly, “I trust whatever she makes will be good.”  

“Unless it’s drinks” I feel myself grimace. I push the other coke towards Marco.  

“True.” He says taking the glass between his hands, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Jean shrugs. “I try not to drink a lot. Obviously I fail sometimes”  I say, it’s the closest I can come to explaining what’s wrong with me.

“Fail as in you downed that cocktail back there.” Marco says.

“We all have our moments” I say quietly, it comes to close to the truth so I roll my eyes.

“Yea, but that just looked painful.” Marco says.

“I’m use to it. You’ve had liquor before right?” I ask, because at this point it wouldn’t have surprised me if Marco had said that those glasses of wine that he drank at thanksgiving were the only alcohol he had ever had.

“A little, then I realized I don't like it.” He shrugs.

“College must have been so fucking different for you” I say, my mind returning to how different me and Marco are. How can he even stand me?

He takes a small drink of his coke, “Apparently so.”

“I mean my first year it was either getting fucked up, fucking, or flunking- but then I started studying so I graduated top of the class.”

Freshman year wasn’t the highlight of my life, nor was it the classiest. I was essentially a boozed out whore, who tasted freedom from a shitty life and ran with it. By sophomore year, I calmed down a little bit, and by the time Hitch called me crying in my third year of college because mom and dad were yelling so loud the neighbors came to check on what had happened, I figured my shit out. I needed to get my life together so I could be a person that was reliable. For Hitch, because she deserves more than what I can give her.

"Six years of classes, work and extra classes if I could fit them into my schedule. The two years for my masters were the toughest but- I mean I needed to get them done." Is all the Marco says, seeming to be as lost in thought as I am.

"Well a toast to that." I say, smiling at him. We need to both stop being so lost in thought.

"If you say so," he says, knocking his glass against mine before taking a sip.

“Very festive of you.” I say, rolling my eyes at him.

“Not as festive as you during Thanksgiving.” He retorts.

“You can only be so festive when your house is being terrorized by two evil teenager girls.” I say, rolling my eyes back at him mockingly.

“Evil teenage girls?” I hear Hitch behind me. Shit.

“Yes, and when I say two, know that you count for both of those because Mina is sweet.” I say, turning to face her.

“Oh Jean, you are so funny.” She says, playing with a strand of her hair, and looking at me like she was going to rig my entire house with traps in the night.

“It’s a gift.” I smiles, because she doesn’t need to know that she’s slightly terrifying.  “You heading home?” I ask, because she’s not wearing skates.

“Good work today Hitch.” Marco says, smiling at her.

“I am a gift to the waitressing world.” Hitch says a little too seriously, practically preening under the compliment.

“When you aren’t questioning a customer’s drink choice.” Marco says, teasing her.

“Stop being logical Mr. B.” Hitch says, rolling her eyes at him. I almost choke on my sip of coke because we are eerily similar.

I feel Marco staring a hole into my head, so I look up at him,  “You two are definitely alike.” He says. I laugh as Hitch makes a noise of disgust. Charming.

“Gross.” She says, but I can tell she’s joking.

“Get home safe please- Mom and Dad’s or…” I trail off, I want her to stay with me but I don’t want to push her.

“Mom and Dad’s. I’ll text you. And I was going to stay with you this weekend, if that’s cool with you?” She says, softly. Her eyes darting between me and Marco.

“Sounds like we’ll be eating Dairy Queen.”

“You know it.” Hitch smiles, and flicks my forehead.

“See you tomorrow during class Hitch.” Marco says, my eyes instantly snap to him and he’s smiling at her which makes me...happy...

“Ugh.. don’t remind me… School.” She grimaces and lets out a noise of protest.

“Christmas break will be here before you know it.” Marco says, which surprises me because I figured he loved being at school.

“Yeah. After like a hundred tests.” She groans dramatically, flipping her hood up and shoving her hands in her pockets. “Peace out bitches.” She adds.

“Bye Hitch.” Marco says after he takes a sip of coke. I nod to Hitch as she turns to leave.

“Responsibility sucks.” I mutter when she’s gone, my head wanting to drop to the table.

“All part of growing up.” Marco says.

“Jean would rather never grow up and have his island of lost boys, if you know what I mean.” Connie says, with perfect timing as always. The brother that I never wanted...

“Hey Connie.” Marco says laughing. Well at least this is amusing.

“Marco- Long time no see.” Connie says, looking at Marco.

“Yeah Yeah. If you consider a few hours a long time.” Marco says, rolling his eyes at Connie.

“I consider a few seconds too long.” Connie says, caressing Marco’s jawline, like a idiot.

“Mhhm. Sure. So, what did Sasha pick off the menu for us?” Marco asks, saving Connie from getting slapped by me.

“Bodt-ered shrimp and alfredo for you.” He says to Marco before turning to me and pushing a bowl towards me. “And the new classic Marco-roni and cheese.” He looks way too proud of himself.

“Oh my god- Don’t go naming dishes after me!” Marco groans, shaking his head and glancing at me, like I can help him with the mystery that is Connie and Sasha.

“Too late.” Connie laughs in a tone that verges on maniacal.

“Don’t look at me, there is a dish called the Chicken Parma-Jean.” I say, putting up my hands in defense- I’ve stopped trying to deal with Connie’s shenanigans.

“Too bad we can’t serve horse.” Connie grins, poking me in the shoulder.

“That’s just wrong.”Marco says, voicing my thoughts.  “Go back to the kitchen, Connie.” He says, shaking his head again like a disappointed mother.

“Yes sir.” Connie mocks a salute before he turns and heads back to the kitchen.

“Damn, this Marco-roni tastes amazing.” I say, because not only is the food fucking delicious, but because I really can’t help teasing him.   

“Dude, it’s too late in the day for you to be making jokes.” He says, unfazed. He knows me too well.

“But you love them.” I deadpans.

“Two can play at that game though, just remember that.” He threatens which makes me laugh because I would really love to see him try.

“I would like to see you try.” I tell him, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll just wait for the perfect time.” He says in between bites.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” I say.

“Okay okay.” Marco shrugs and continues eating. I dive back into my food because I’m fucking starving. We don’t really talk but I just be around him and be comfortable.

“Man…It’s getting late..” Marco say in his exhale. I look up from my basically empty plate of food to see him staring at his phone.

“Shit sorry- You have work tomorrow-” I apologize. He has work and I fucking kept him out.

“Yeah… sadly..”He says softly.

“Now you sound like Hitch....Don’t worry, winter break will be here soon.” I say, repeating the words that he told Hitch.

“Not soon enough” Marco says, running his hands through his hair and yawning.

“My job never ends. Christmas means nothing in the world of money.” I tell him. I shouldn’t give people more reasons to hate my job but it’s a shitty job. It was fine when I didn’t have friends or family but now I have Connie, Sasha, Hitch and Marco.

“What do you want for Christmas?” He asks, sitting up from where he was resting his cheek in his hand. The question takes me by surprise because I don’t normally do Christmas. Hitch’s birthday is the day before so Christmas usually just gets lost in that when I’m home and when I’m alone there’s no point.

“.......I don’t know.” I say, because I can’t think of anything that I really want. At least that comes in a fucking box or whatever...

“Alright. I have something in mind already.”Marco says, smiling to himself and shit... I have to figure out what to get him. And Connie... and Sasha.

“What do you want for Christmas?” I ask him, trying not to sound too desperate.

“Nothing really.” Marco says, and honestly I could reach across the table and shake him. Why doesn’t he make anything easy.

“I should have expected that.” I roll my eyes at him, taking my last sip of coke.

“Well…. yeah..I… should be getting home..” Marco says, shifting in his chair.

“I’ll walk with you.” I say immediately, because if I stay here I’ll be interrogated by Connie and Sasha, and if I go home I’m alone.

“Jean- That’s out of your way… literally in the opposite direction…” Marco tries to argue, but I give him the most exasperated expression I can manage.

“And?” I ask.

“Okay fine.” Marco says, resigning.

“Haa I win.” I say, mostly just thankful that we’ve gotten to the point where he quits fighting me on dumb shit, like walking home at night. Marco gets out of the booth and puts his coat on, and I walk our plates over to Connie and Sasha in the kitchen.

“You heading out?” Connie asks, taking the plates from me.

“Yup, walking Marco home,” I say. Sasha walks over to me and pulls me into  a hug.

“Get home safe,” She say squeezing me harder than anyone should squeeze someone they just fed.

“Here. For food” I say, handing her money when she releases me.

“No” Sasha says, hitting my hand away. I roll my eyes and shove the money into her apron pocket.

“Are you throwing money at my girlfriend like she’s a stripper?” Connie says, looking over at us.

“I wouldn’t have too if she just accepted the money” I say, Sasha makes a noise of discontent that sounds like it’s verging on a growl.

“I would run bro” Connie says laughing.

I take his advice, and head out of the kitchen. 

“I will hunt you down Kirchstein.” Sasha calls after me.

Marco is in his jacket by the time I’m back and  I try and ignore how great he looks leaning against the table fiddling with his phone.

“Ready?” I ask, after pulling on my jacket and shoving my tie and button down under the arm of my coat.

“Mhhm. Ready.” Marco says, walking towards the exit.

♬

“Um.. Do… you want to come inside and I’ll grab a bag for you to carry your shirt and tie back in?” Marco says, the words spilling from his mouth as we approach his apartment building.

“Oh… yeah. That would be great.” I say- I’m interested in seeing what his apartment looks like- where he’s living.

Marco motions for me to follow him into the building and up the staircase inside the dimly lit hall. Nothing about the interior of this building suggests that Marco should be living here,   “O-oh.. uh.. sorry about your allergies..” He says quietly when we are midway up the steps.

“I’ll be fine, trust me. My- uh- last girlfriend, Annie, had a cat.” I say, really cats, don’t bother me and the last thing I want is for Marco to think that he can’t have Tuff around me.

Marco doesn’t look convinced or reassured as he opens his door.

“Sorry it’s-” Marco starts to say but cuts off when a cat, presumably Tuff, darts to the door. “Hey sweetie,” he murmurs completely enamored with the cat and it’s fucking adorable.

“Take a seat on the couch and I’ll grab a bag.” Marco says, snapping up from snuggling his cat, as if remembering I’m still behind him. I laugh softly and walk into the living room- it’s small, but clean, but it doesn’t really look like he lives here, there nothing really out that screams Marco. I sink onto the couch and try to hold in a sneeze but fail.

“Really sorry….” Marco says, concern causing him to furrow his eyebrows. Shit. Why do I have to keep worrying.

“I’m fine.” I roll my eyes at him and my eyes to dart Tuff sitting on his shoulder, “So.. Tuff. She’s cute.”

“She’s my baby.” Marco practically coos, moving her from his shoulder to his lap. She really is adorable- and really fucking fluffy. I feel my nose start to itch but ignore it as I reach my hand out to her. I just really want her to like me- which feels pathetic because Tuff is his cat, not his mom. Somehow this feels more important though. Tuff, however, doesn’t share the same idea about our budding friendship because her teeth sink into my hand, and I try not to let out to big of a yelp.

“Okay okay I’m sorry- I’m sorry-” Marco says, pulling Tuff away from me. God dammit- I should have been able to get this right. Annie’s cat, the little monster, fucking adored me and like to shed on everything I ever loved as well as sleep on my face.

“Marco it’s okay- I’ve experienced worse pain.” I tell him, because it’s really not the first time I’ve been bit by an animal. Or worse.

“Still- it’s my bad.. She gets grumpy..” Marco says, trailing off. I lean my head back against the couch and disrupt a thin layer of cat hair which makes my sinuses explode.

“I feel that.” I try to say though my sneezes.

“Well…. I’ll let you head back home then?” Marco says....shit I’m imposing. I automatically stand up from the couch and shift my weight from foot to foot.

“Yeah… Thanks.. for the bag.” I say,, not sure what to do. Somewhere deep inside my brain something is yelling at me to kiss him. Apparently my entire body hasn’t caught up with the program. Marco is my friend.

“Mhm… thanks for inviting me. I had a great time.” Marco says, standing in front of me, holding a very disgruntled looking Tuff in his arms.

“Anytime, I’ll see you when you can escape from your teachery-ness sometime.” I say, pulling up my hood.

“Don’t be a baby, it’s not like I’m five hours away.” Marco says, rolling his eyes at me. He may not be five hours away but he works like he is sometimes.

“I am not a baby.” I mutter.

“Yes, you are.” Marco says smiling at me and extending an arm. Hugging, we are going to hug. I lean against him, and this is what I’ve been fucking missing. Being close to him. I pull away before I can sneeze on him, or just make things awkward.  

“Bye Marco. Bye Tuff.” I say, pulling away, looking to Tuff, who I swear is glaring at me.

“See you Jean.” He says, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. He looks like he wants to say something else but he doesn’t . We stare at each other for a minutes and part of my mind is chanting kiss him so loud that I almost say shut up. I nod to him and turn and walk out the door, taking a minute to lean against the wall of the hallway outside of his apartment. That went well.

The walk back from Marco’s is uneventful. I manage not to fall which- again- a fucking miracle. It’s too easy, the whole walk, I’m capable of doing it all by my fucking self and I hate it. Being alone. The house is empty and dark and looking around, it really doesn't look anymore like a home than Marco’s apartment. There’s maybe three pictures on the wall and some books on the shelves but I feel like there needs to be more. Hitch deserves an actual home. I deserve an actual home.

I strip down in the living room- which is just another pathetic reminder of how empty the house is, and pop a few claritines from the downstairs bathroom. It’s time to get to work, crunching numbers and dealing with money. At least money doesn't have emotions.


	11. My Mind is Telling Me No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean. Oh jean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So this is late. Like way late but you know...  
> So I hope you enjoy this chapter...It's a lot of Jean's family shit. It's safe to say he's a fairly unhappy baby. 
> 
> <3 You guys rock. Thank you. 
> 
> Alsoo! We have wonderful readers and neuroticsoulgobbler (who is amazing) drew some fan art for this fic a while ago that is beautiful and made me want to cry with happiness. Y'all should check it out:   
> http://neuroticsoulgobbler.tumblr.com/post/109989029313/some-colored-doodles-again-for-music-to-his-ears  
> http://neuroticsoulgobbler.tumblr.com/post/109980366323/i-love-this-fanfic-by-pencilonly-on-ao3-just-had#notes  
> http://neuroticsoulgobbler.tumblr.com/post/110039939543/last-one-i-swear-i-just-sketched-a-lot-last-night#notes

December 1st

He is trapped- suspended in the water only separated from the split second where downing begins by a thin milky membrane wrapped around his form . I can’t see the figure. I know the dream, but I’ve never felt it like this before. Never in the years I’ve been having it.

“Jean?” A voice calls my name, the sound echoing  in the water, rippling in waves. I don’t understand where it’s coming from, somewhere in the thick black waters beyond my sight line.  I don’t know where I am, I can’t place myself within the walls of the dream, the unfamiliar sensation of being lost within my own mind  overtaking me. I want to wake up. I want to wake up.

“Jean!” The voice calls again- it’s the same one as before but there is more panic, the sound of someone finding someone they weren’t looking for unexpectantly. The owner of the voice glides into view- the fabric of my mind materializing him into forefront of the dream. I feel like I can’t breath. The figure. A man- reaches his hand towards the person suspended in the milky orb. Concentrating is hard- focusing on breathing and on the image reeling in front of me, my mind telling me not to watch.

I feel something on my chest. The pressure of something trying to reach through me. The man is still reaching towards the suspended figure. He is calling my name but is nowhere near me. His arm. Muscular, freckled-

♫

5pm-

Connie’s text message comes in at the perfect time to distract me from having to the ring the doorbell. Ringing a doorbell shouldn’t be this fucking stressful- especially if it’s to your childhood home, where your parent’s live. But of course that’s the worst possible combination when your mother is a raging alcoholic who is perpetually in ‘recovery’  and your dad is an abusive asshole.

**-Come by the restaurant...bored af-**

‘af’... what  the fuck does ‘af’ mean... I know I’m allowing myself to get out of ringing the doorbell but I let myself slump against the rough panelling of the house to text back.

**-af?-**

Connie’s text message takes a few minutes...which only lets me stall more. Please be typing with one finger Connie, please.  

**-as fuck-**

**-jesus jean, how do you not know these things you have a teenager sister-**

 

-haha yeah whatever-

-but I can’t come in...dinner with mom-

Connie knows what I’m saying. He knows I’ve been avoiding it too.

**-seriously.... good luck man-**

**-come by later if  you need to chill. open 24/7 for you ;)-**

 

-you are a dumbass.-

\- thanks-

I start to type something back- anything to distract myself and drag Connie into another conversation that will let me stay out on the porch the whole night but the second I start typing Connie sends me another text message.

**-get it over with. rip the bandaid off...yadda yadda yadda...stop using me as a distraction-**

Shit. Sometimes I forget how much Connie knows me. Not even from what I tell him but from how much shit from my life he’s accidentally seen.

I slip my phone into the pocket of my jacket- my hand itching to text Marco, someone who doesn’t know everything but someone who can calm me down. My finger presses into the doorbell instead, a sickening chime sounding and the distinct noise of mom’s high heels on the floor.

“Sweetie!” My mother says, her arms snaking around me. I resist the urge to stiffen under her touch.

“Mom” I say. It tastes mechanical in my mouth. I can’t smell alcohol on her, but that hasn't stop her from ruining everything in the past. I want to believe she’s better but she isn’t. Everything is telling me she isn’t.

“I made your favorite-” She begins to say as she pulls away from me- her hands still planted on my shoulders, holding me an arms length away from her as if she’s examining me.

“Mom, why am I here?” I cut her off. I need to know whatever crazy plan she’s plotting.

“Can’t I just see my boy whose all grown up and finally back home,” She says, smiling at me.

“I’ve been back for months,” I mutter.

"Well, I've been busy with work, trying to maintain a household. So sue me Jean." She says bitterly- there it is. She doesn't think I'm helping out enough. Jesus Christ, I fucking support Hitch. Jesus Fucking Christ.

"Come inside and eat please." She says before I can say anything else to her.

I just want to leave. All of this bullshit.

"Yeah. It's fine. Just dinner," I say.

I look up at her to see her rolling her eyes, "lighten up dear, I'm your mother, is it such a hardship to eat dinner with me?" She says, scoffing and walking towards the kitchen, her skirt swaying behind her.

Yes. She doesn’t even know the half of it.

"Sorry. I've been busy with work too. It's stressful," I say, giving myself an excuse as I walk into the house. It was my childhood home but instead of nostalgia all the familiar dressings of the house only give me the creeps. Like something is watching me.

“So my little lamb, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Her voice says, her back still turned to me and her tone is sickly sweet. Joy, this should be entertaining.

♫

December 2nd

“She called you her little lamb?” Connie asks, an eyebrow arching. It was pretty fucking precious, the moment. Connie leaning across the bar of The Impastas, a dish rag slung over his shoulder and me, sitting slumped on the bar stool drinking...a rum and coke, hold the rum.

“She called me her little lamb, and then asked me for money,” I say. She’s ridiculous. My mother- insane.

Connie lets out a snort before asking, “ And what in the world does she need money for?”

“Apparently she is going to leave my father,” I say, reiterating the words of my mother. The one she delivered like she was some sort of brave warrior for leaving my asshole dad years after it really mattered.

“Jesus-” Connie says, shaking his head. “And you dealing with all this shit while giving up cigarettes and alcohol?” he adds, while wiping water out of glasses.

I feel myself blanch, because why I started to be responsible, I don’t know.

“I’m cutting back on alcohol...” I correct.

Connie smiles and it’s a little too sentimental for comfort, “I’m proud of you horse face,” he says, his hand coming towards me to fuck up my hair in some sort of loving pseudo gesture.

“Yeah yeah yeah-” I say, knocking his hand away.

♫

December 3rd

“Jeaannnnnnn, I’m hooooooooome!!!!” Hitch calls, her voice accompanied by the obnoxious ringing of some demon percussion instrument.

“Oh I didn’t notice,” I say, rolling my eyes not looking away from my laptop. There is too much shit I need to do to quit my job- accounts to refer, clients to talk too....

“I’ve decided I want to be a musician,” Hitch says, walking into the living room, standing in front of me. Her hair is wild- dotted with snow- and her socks are leaving damp footprints on the hardwood behind her.

A musician- Hitch as a musician could be hilarious, she doesn’t have a patience.

“Does this have something to do with Marco?” I ask.

“Oh yeah- he assigned us a new project and we have to learn how to play an instrument and I decided on the.... triangle!” She says, flopping on the couch next to me, and banging on the triangle again while giving me a shit eating grin.

“He’s going to hate you,” I laugh. She is the actual devil, I don’t know how Marco deal with her in his class. I would fail her- for fun.

“A girl can only dream,” She says wistfully before resuming her terrible beating of the triangle.

“Play the piano or something,” I mutter, grabbing the triangle from her.

“Ooooh I could really kiss ass with that one,” She says, a new devious glint in her eye. Great. Just what we need- hitch with a plan.

“I mean I could make the piano my bitch” She adds thoughtfully. “Can you get me a keyboard? Please please please please please.....” She pleads.

“Yeah yeah yeah... I’ll get you one sometime this week but you need to actually use it,” I say. The shit she’s gotten for her various hobbies over the year could fill a fucking estate.

“You are the best! I love you sooooooo much!” Hitch says smiling at me widely.

“You are a loser,” I say back, causing her to laugh.

“So I’m going to go back to mom and dads tonight but I needed my science homework,” She says sighing. I fucking hate that she leaves- fuck our parents... just seriously fuck them.

“I’ll drive you,” I tell her. The walk really isn’t as far as I wish it could be, but the snow is disgusting. Plus if she’s going to go home at least I can make it a little bit easier.

♫

December 4th

8PM

The best way to avoid work is to play buzzfeed quizzes... Well actually the best way to avoid work is to text Marco because then I am fulfilling to guilty pleasures, procrastinating and obsessing over my best friend.

-Did Sasha get you the song list?-

It’s a simple enough question but that fucking bubble that shows me that he’s typing antagonizes me.

**-Yup. I got it-**

-Okay. Just making sure… They are scatterbrained sometimes-

Liar. I’m a liar. I just wanted to talk to you.

**-Even if I didn’t get it, I know a good range of songs to wing it-**

Oh course he does- knowing how to play an instrument is something that’s actually entertaining. Unless Sasha and Connie want to have a tax day party I can’t do shit.

-haha it’s nice you have skills to actually entertain people-

**-I could always teach you something if you want to entertain Connie and Sasha that bad :) -**

-There are so many gross things running through my head right now.-

**-Haa that’s your own fault-**

-I’m pretty sure all the gross things that run through my head are your fault-

He doesn’t even know the half of it- if he knew how thoughts of him, bent over and breathless worked their way into my imagination he would probably run for the hills. I want him any way I can get him. Which is a friend. Marco is my friend. Because that's what he wants.

**-Aw really? Glad I can help make your life interesting outside of work-**

-Go back to being all teachery and shit Marky Marc-

**-Don’t you start that too!-**

-<3 -

No response. Shit. Back to buzzfeed.

♫

December 5th

12PM

“Can I help you with anything?” A voice sounds next to me, the owner of it is a short red headed girl who’s batting her eyes suggestively at me. I could get it, if I wanted too. I kind of want to, but Marco sits in the back of my mind.

“I’m getting a keyboard for my sister,” I say, and her eyes widen and she practically squeals. What the fuck just happened?

“So cute! How old is she?” She asks, clapping her hands together and smiling at me.

“Uhhh... fifteen,” I say because how is this relevant.

“You are such a great brother, oh my gosh! So what kind of keyboard?” She asks, flipping her hair. Not going to happen. It’s not going to happen.

I pull out my phone and text Hitch because I have no fucking clue. Aren’t all keyboards the same?

-any specific keyboard?-

**-nawwww just something awesome-**

**-like me-**

**-I’m awesome-**

Oh my fucking god she is ridiculous.

-yeah yeah yeah whatever-

“Just whatever’s best for a beginner,”  I tell the sales girl who’s still twirling her hair around her finger. She lights up and starts walking down the aisle pointing at keyboards... I really don’t care. My phone distracts me, a text message from Hitch coming in.

**-you should also stop and get me candy... please please please-**

-no-

**-but i have my period. IM BLEEDING-**

**-FROM MY VAGINA-**

**-IM NOT PREGNANT BUT IM IN PAIN. REWARD ME BITCH-**

Jesus fucking christ. This is why I needed to stay in california. Safe from the teenage girls.

**-I hate you-**

-fine-

-what kind?-

**-ALL KINDS-**

“Excuse me...” The sale’s girl says, looking at me expectantly.

“Hmm? Sorry,” I say, snapping back to reality- thankful to be out of the world where Hitch talks to me about her period.

“Does this one work?” She asks, gesturing to a keyboard, that honestly looks like every fucking keyboard in the store.

“Oh sure. Thanks.” I say, just ready to get out of this store.

“No problem,” She says smiling and lingers a little bit before she realizes I’m not going to flirt with her or fuck her or whatever the fuck she wants.

Shit. I’m being mean. Before I can think about the fact that I’m a fucking asshole my phone interrupts me again. What the fuck  could Hitch be wanting to tell me now...?

**-Please tell me it’s not you Hitch was texting in my class-**

Oh fuck- It’s Marco.

-Uh….-

I don’t know how to respond because I feel like I’m in trouble. Marco’s a fucking teacher. Of course I’m in trouble- because only I would find a way to get in trouble with a teacher after I graduated college.

** -It was. Wasn’t it- **

-To be fair, I didn’t know she was in your class-

**-To be fair, you know she’s in school and should not be texting in any class.-**

Well all fairs in brothers and sisters so it’s time to blame it on Hitch.

-You should have sent her to detention. She started it. By texting me.-

**-You should be in detention with her you back stabber!-**

-So I should be punished?-

I wish I was with him to see the way he would blush on that comment, although maybe it’s better that I’m not. Marco and punishment is not something I should mix. Because Marco is a friend.

**-Shut it-**

-I want you to be aware that I’m rolling my eyes at you right now-

**-Oh I bet. Now please don’t reply to her in school unless it’s an emergency-**

-yes teacher :) But yeah, I won’t-

-Also she was texting me about buying her a keyboard-

I send him a picture of the cart because there’s not much else to do and maybe he won’t be too hard on her. The piano is so his fucking weakness.

**-Well good. At least I won’t have a triangle ringing in my class anymore-**

-She was super excited about the triangle-

-I heard you crushed her dreams-

**-Apparently that is my new title-**

-No your new title is Marky Mark-

**-It sounds better than princess-**

**-Or horse face-**

Of course... of fucking course. Horse face. Princess. Jean-bo. Seabiscuit. Fucking “Little lamb.” I hate everyone.

-You spend too much time with Connie and Sasha-

-And Hitch-

**-Probably-**

-I mean, it must totally speak to how much you like me.. Considering you hang out with me the least-

**-Sorry, but you got to win back my love from Sasha-**

That shouldn’t make me jealous. I’m not jealous. I’m not going to let myself be jealous.

-Those are rich words from someone who rejected her pie-

**-You have lost 20 Marco love points. You are at -50 -**

Marco Love Points...Jesus Christ.

-Well I’ll see what I can do about that ;) -

**-Good luck. I got to go now-**

Right, because he’s a real adult with adult things to do.

-Go foster the youths of America-

Time to go buy some fucking candy so Hitch doesn’t tear me to shreds.

♫

2:40PM

**-I’ll be out in a sec-**

I could maybe be irritated with Hitch’s text message if I hadn’t already parked the car and was half way across the parking lot, getting closer and closer to Marco. I have no self control and Hitch’s lateness is just feeding my excuses to stop and talk to Marco.

“Come here often?” I ask as I approach him.

“Five days a week.” He says, coming out of a daze.

“Man, that’s rough.”  I get it, work can suck sometimes. Well for me, all the fucking time, but at least Marco seems to like his job most of the time. He sort of shrugs and just looks at me and the candy I got him starts to burn a hole in my pocket.

“So…. how many ‘Marco love points will I get for giving you a shit ton of kisses.” I ask him, hoping that he will blush. I’m fucking moving on, right. Cause he’s hot but it’s not like we can’t be just friends, and even as just friends I can tease him. I tease Connie all the time.

“Pfft- None.. because like you would smother me in kisses.” Marco rolls his eyes and shifts his weight from leg to leg. Yeah. Never. I would never kiss Marco.

Because he doesn’t want me too.  

“Consider yourself smothered.” I say, throwing the Hershey’s kisses at his chest, laughing, because his face scrunches up trying to figure out what just happened.

Marco catches the bag “Oh my god! You pulled the Hershey kiss trick.” He shakes his head and looks down at it, “Okay. Consider yourself at the top of my list now.”

“Good, that’s where I like to be. On top.” I say without thinking. Shit. Something about Marco makes me want to smoke, but I take out a damn lollipop instead.

Marco rolls his eyes and says,  “You’re so lame. Don’t give me reasons to put you back on bottom.” But it’s lighthearted. He’s dancing around me. Just like I’m dancing around him, and I fucking hate it.

“Not as lame as you.” I respond automatically. At least I didn’t say, ‘I would be happy to be your bottom’.

Marco snaps me out of thoughts about just how many freckles he could have with the topic of sisters. Hitch, the best boner killer of the century. “So.. it Hitch being slow again?” He asks.

“Basically… She’s purposely being irritating. One word: Marlowe.” I grimace. That fucking kids hair is enough to give me hives but the fact that he’s dating my sister...

“You stepping up your dad game?” Marco asks cockily. I bet he’s proud of himself for that one.

“I feel the sex talk coming.”I say quietly. Someone has to have it with her even if it would be easier to kill Marlowe and bury him in the backyard.

“I feel you on that. My parents made me, of all people, tell Isaac. And they gave the job of telling me to Ymir.”

Ymir... shes fucking scary. Nothing beats having a scary lesbian lecture you on sexual safety and techniques. “I can’t imagine any of that was fun. Although I imagine Ymir was… informative.”

“Getting a sex talk from a lesbian isn’t that informative so much actually..” Marco says.

I can’t help but laugh because he looks so fucking scandalized. If only Marco would ever have the...pleasure...of being in a room with Annie.  

“Well, well, well if you two don’t look like the epitome of a shitty porno, I don’t know what does. I mean seriously Jean, you’re eating lollipops now?” Hitch says, drawing out her words and being as much of a dick as she can manage.

I flick her on the head because she seriously is such a little shit, “I’m quitting smoking- for you- so shut it because this helps.”

“You two have a good weekend.” Marco says, his pitch raising considerable.

“I’ll see you at the restaurant, you can’t escape me that easily Mr. B” Hitch says, smiling at Marco like  a chesire cat. I refrain from holding her back, she could take him in a fight.

“Probably not this weekend. So I’ll see you Monday.” Marco replies.

“Lame. I’m not responsible for any actions Sasha and Connie take against you then.” Hitch says- and she’s right but in the interest of not standing around in the cold ass weather harassing Marco, I tug on her hood.

“Come on, spawn of Satan. We have to go hook up your keyboard so you can continue being teacher’s pet.” I nod goodbye to Marco and pull Hitch along with me, hearing Marco call a “See you guys,” before he walks away as well.

“So I’m staying over tonight, and then tomorrow Marlowe was going to come hang out and watch a movie. And Saturday night I’m going to go to mom and dads because mom wanted to have a girls day or whatever” Hitch says, rushing her words together even while trying to sound casual.

“A girls day? Really? And Marlowe.. Who’s Marlowe?” I ask her, and her eyes narrow. Payback for the lollipop jokes. Karma’s a fucking bitch.

“Just act normal,” She mutters, ignoring me.

“I’ll get out my feather boa, your baby photos, and some heroin.” I respond, hooking my arm over her shoulders. Shit, she’s gotten tall.

“I hate you. I will smother you in your sleep.” Hitch says, but leans into me anyways.

“You’ll hate me more when I give you the sex talk-” I begin to say.

“NO! Jean. No.” Hitch looks mortified. She pushes me away.

“But baby sister you need to know that if you have sex you will get pregnant and die,” I say, pulling her back towards me and throwing her over my shoulder, and continuing to walk to the car.

“You have a weird obsession with Mean Girls.” She says, her voice slightly muffled.

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever.” I respond. So what. It’s fucking funny.

“Just act normal. Please.” She whines.

“Would I ever embarrass you?” I ask her, hardly contain my laughter.

“YES.” She responds, hitting me on the back lightly.

♫

December 6th

5PM

There is laughing coming from the basement, a girly ass giggle that does not normally come from the vessel in which satan lives called my sister, as well as the only slightly deeper laugh of Marlowe. Laughter- coming from my basement, where my teenage sister was being subjected to a teenage boy. I could rip my fucking hair out .

-Hitch has Marlowe over. They are downstairs. What do I do Connie.-

Luckily Connie must not be in the kitchen because his text back keeps me from storming downstairs and stringing up Marlowe by his toes. I know how teenage boys think. I was one. I practically still am one.

** -Stop being a dad. Chill. She’s a good kid.- **

Exactly shes a kid. A kid. She’s not suppose to have boyfriends.

-SHES A KID-

**-Jean. Don’t make her resent you.-**

-so I can trust this Marlowe fucker?-

**-not his choice in hair but yeah-**

**-he comes into the restaurant sometimes when Hitch is working. He’s nice. Sash like him-**

-okay-

**-Don’t freak out man-**

-okay-

I am not freaking out. Everything is cool.

♫

December 8th

3AM

The shriek of my phone jerks me back to life, ripping me away from staring at the endless list of numbers on my computer that I’ve been looking at for what feels like the millionth fucking night in a row.

“Hello...?” I ask into the phone, regretting not checking the caller ID.

“Jean?” A voice sniffles through the phone. Fuck. It takes my brain a few seconds to connect the voice and the face and the meaning of the call.

“Hitch? What’s wrong,” I respond, my eyes catching a glimpse of the clock. Three in the morning. This isn’t good.

“Jean. It’s mom- she- I don’t know, she was fine but I think she was drinking and I called an ambulance and Dad is not home..” She says, her words slamming into each other as she tries to breathe calmly.

“I’m coming, right now,” I say, half way out of my seat.

“Come to the hospital. 911 said they would be here soon.” Hitch says.

I want to punch something. I fucking hate her, she my mother but I hate her for putting Hitch through this.

Rage. I fucking can't think straight when I get into my car because my blood is boiling. I’m partly thankful for how careful I have to be driving on the ice covered roads because I start to calm down as I approach the hospital.

“I’m looking for Adelaide Kirstein? She was brought in for alcohol poisoning.” I say,  leaning in close to the receptionist at the ER desk so she can hear me over the surprising noisy backdrop of the waiting room.

“She’s being processed. Only family.” The woman says, not even bothering to look up from her fucking computer.

“I’m her son.” I say, holding back my aggravation.

She sighs like I’ve burdened her and clicks loudly on her keyboard, “I’ll notify the doctor.”

“Great, thanks.” I hold back sarcasm as best as I can. It’s too fucking early to deal with my mother’s bullshit- even unconscious, drowning in what likely is a barrel of whiskey she still manages to fuck everything up. I sink into a chair in the waiting room- it’s uncomfortable beyond belief but despite that fact I could probably fall asleep right here.

“Jean-” a voice says, pulling me from sleep. For a second my mind goes to the dream, where someone was calling my name. But this voice isn’t masculine, nor strong and thick with purpose but feminine...and worried.

“Jean. Oh my god. Why didn’t they send you back?” the voice- Hitch- says. I stand up, shaking the tiredness away and take her in my arms.

“They told me to wait here. Fucking hospitals.” I mumble against her hair.

“They pumped her stomach. She’s sleeping. But they are putting her in a program.” Hitch says, her voice shaking.

“I’m going to talk to the doctor and then I’m going to take you home,” I tell her. There is no point in having her stay here.

“Okay. I called dad too,” She adds.

“Great. It’s not a party until dads here. The Adrienne and Adelaide show... whoopee...” I says, detaching from Hitch and pushing her gently into the chair. “I’ll be back in a moment. “ I tell her.

♫

December 8th

2:30PM

My phone buzzes, waking me up. I can’t remember the last time I woke up naturally and not to an alarm, or a text message, or worse a phone call about mom or dad.

**-Everything okay with Hitch?-**

Right. Marco- I forgot that he would notice Hitch’s absences.

-She’ll be okay-

He responds immediately.

**\- Are you okay?-**

I struggle to text while Hitch lays fast asleep across me, while Law and Order plays in the background.  

-Parents are shitty-

**-I’m sorry.. You can tell her I didn’t assign any new homework-**

-Thanks Marco-

**-Do you need anything?-**

Ha! Do I need anything? I really want a drink but thats a bad idea. I could also use a great fuck to destress but that’s probably not anything I should mention to Marco. because we are friends.

-No I’m okay. I made vegetable soup earlier and now Hitch is passed out on top of me-

**-Cute. You two take it easy tonight-**

-You take it easy too-

**-I will-**

Something tells me that that is a lie, because even though Marco is hardly a party animal something about him screams ‘I lay at home stressing about things out of my control.’ I don’t call him out on it though because being called out on shit sucks.

“Are you done dinging?” Hitch slurs, reaching a hand up to tap against my face. I brush her hand away from me.

“What are you talking about?” I ask her, because she is barely coherent.

“The dingy dingy noise of your phone thing.” She says through a yawn.

“Go to sleep Hitch.” I say, holding back a laugh. She mumbles in response and nestles further into the couch, pressing her feet against my legs.

♫

December 9th

“Hey bro!” Hitch says over the phone.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at school like in class or some shit?” I ask her, because what the hell, it’s almost three.

“School ends soon and I have study hall. I’m going over to Marlowe’s house after school.” She says, practically cooing over Marlowe’s name.

“Jesus. Um, call me if you want me to pick you up later.”

“Don’t worry...I won’t get pregnant.” She says through a cackle and if I wasn’t already sitting down I would probably collapse in horror.

“I hate you.” I mutter.

“Yeah yeah yeah.” She says mimicking me. “Anyways... is Marco dead or something because he wasn’t at school and there was an idiot sub with ugly ass hair. He was basically a total butt face” she adds, sounding disgruntled.

“Wait what? Ill make sure he’s alright.” I say automatically.

“Okay lover boy,” Hitch says, laughing again. Well she’s in a good mood.

“Shut up.” I snap. Friends. Me and Marco are friends. I’m allowed to worry about him.

“Love you.” Hitch says before hanging up the phone. Great. I just love teenagers.

My mind wanders to Marco. Not in the way it has before- not to his hands or to his expansive freckled skin but to if he’s okay. My fingers itch to text to him, I want to- need to- make sure that he is okay.

-Hitch says you were ditching class and the substitute teacher was a ‘total buttface.’-

**-If you call being sick ‘ditching’ then sure-**

-You’re sick?-

My mind imagines a cross of Marco laying dead on a couch and the sickest person anyone could imagine.

**-I woke up with a fever. It’s gone down some tho-**

-shit, I’m sorry. That sucks. I’ll bring you soup-

**-You don’t have to bring me soup, I’m fine-**

Of course. Just like Marco to not let people help him.

-Dude let me please-

-Think of it as more for me than you… I’m trying to avoid work-

**-Okay okay. Don’t blame me if you get sick too-**

-I’ll be fine-

The satisfaction of being able to push away from my desk and shut my laptop is enough to declare that today is a fucking good day, even if mom is making life a living hell, Hitch is hanging out with her boyfriend, dad’s MIA, and Marco is denying help.

♫

Marcos apartment is dingy, to say the least. It’s fucking disheartening to know that Marco has to live in such a shit hole.

“Hey slacker.” Marco says answering the door. He’s in pajamas slung loosely over his body and his hair is sticking up in every direction.

He let’s me step inside, and shift the bag of food in my arms- fuck- I probably brought to much.

“I could say the same thing to you. You look like death.” I tell him- he does.

“Thanks. I feel like death.” He mutters and takes off his glasses with a yawn. Jeez, he looks like fucking death and I hate it.

"I brought soup, crackers and juice." I say, trying to distract myself more than anything.

"What kind of soup?" He asks. I have the impulse to hug him. I don’t know why. I don’t hug people- but something about him... Something about him sick hits me in the gut.

"Vegetable. I made it last night for Hitch.... It's her favorite."

“Right right..” He says, leading me to the kitchen.  “Oh- I got some allergy medicine while I was out the other day.”He adds. Ah yes- cats. The dander and hair floating around Marco’s apartment was already slightly killing my sinuses but I can’t be bothered to let it irritate me. If I could deal with Annie’s cat, I can deal with Tuff, even if Tuff did bite me.

“I took some already but I’ll need some more soon… Where is Tuff anyways?” I ask him.

“Bedroom I think.” He says in a daze before wandering off. Even though he looks unsteady I don’t follow him. I focus on unpacking the food I brought him. He reemerges into the Kitchen holding the fluffy little devil.

“She fell asleep listening to me play.” He says.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping and resting?” I ask. Of course he’s taking a sick day but still working. I want to shake him and then force him to sleep.

“I slept in, but I need to get stuff done. I can’t just lie around all day.”  Marco says, waving my concern off. I never thought I would be thankful for how dramatic Hitch is when she’s sick but at least she let’s me help her.

“Well sit around for at least a little bit and eat this. Where are your bowls?” I say, trying not to snap at him.

“Cabinet.” He responds.

“I feel like you are one of those people who refuses to believe they need rest.” I say, rolling my eyes at him as I wait for the soup I dished out for him to heat up in the microwave.

He sets down Tuff on the floor and leans against the counter, his shoulders settling.

“I’ve had too much rest over the past few years…” He says- his tone makes me think he rather wouldn’t get into it and as much as I want to press him... we all have our secrets.

“Eat this.” I say instead.

“Okay okay.” He resigns, taking the bowl. I don’t want to watch him eat. I don’t want to focus on his lips- his mouth- wrapping around a spoon. He can’t make the simplest actions come off pornographic which is the last thing I need. I bend down to pet Tuff instead, Tuff the perfect, cute, fluffy distraction.

“Hey Tuff..I just want to be your friend.” I whisper to the cat. I just need this cat to like me. “Hi baby.” I add at her, I’m kind of disgusted at the coo that enters my voice but she’s a fucking cute cat. He rubs her head against my hand and if she wasn’t a cat I would say I had won.

“You can pick her up, she likes to be held.” Marco says, disrupting my thoughts.

“She’s cute.” I tell him, scooping Tuff up in my arms, she really is a little fluff bucket.

“She’s the most important thing in my life-But I’m glad she likes you.” He says, scooting closer and almost leaning on me. I want him to be leaning on me but he’s just trying to get closer to his cat, who I’m holding captive in my arms.

“How’s the soup?” I ask him, looking up at him, being so close to him lets me see just how many freckles he has.

“Fantastic, I haven’t really eaten much today.” He says. Of course he hasn’t eaten. God forbid anyone takes care of themselves.

“Because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you are sick.”

“Look I’m sorry I don’t act like a normal sick person.” He says and now he sounds like the one on the edge of snapping. I want to smoke. Marco makes me want to smoke. I take out a lollipop instead.

“I hate these stupid things.” I tell him. My hands are full with Tuff nestled in between my one arm and chest, and a lollipop in the other.  

“You’re trying to stop smoking.. right?”

I nod instead of answering. Less committal.

“I’m proud of you for it.”

"Yeah yeah yeah." I say because more people who are proud of me are just more likely to be disappointed. Like clockwork my sinuses start tingling and my throat tightens. Fucking allergies.

"I think I'll need that allergy medicine." I say, trying to hold in a sneeze. I set tuff down and hold the lollipop in my mouth. I have to look dumb right now because my face is so scrunched up it hurts.  

"Gotcha."Marco says before disappearing. Tuff stares at me longingly from the floor and as much as I want to pick her up I know I can’t. When Marco comes back into the room he hands me the light blue bottle of pills, ah claretin my dear dear friend.

"You're a lazy baby, a lazy furry baby." I hear Marco say. He’s bent down and gathered the cat into his arms. Marco shouldn’t be allowed near animals. It’s to cute or not or whatever the fuck Marco is.

"And I thought Hitch was lazy. I swear if I got her a cat, she would just learn how lazy people could get." I say,  and he laughs at that.  "Hitch says that the substitute was evil and she missed you in class even if you don't let her chew gum." I add, trying to carry the conversation so I don’t get lost in staring at him.

"I'm guessing the substitute was Gunther.. Maybe? He's the usual substitute teacher."

"She said something about a stupid haircut... But honestly she's dating Marlowe so she can't pass judgement."

"Most likely Gunther."

"Have you told Connie and Sasha that you are sick?" I ask him. Sasha will kill him, and probably me if she finds out. She is the mother hen.

"No...I wasn't going to tell anyone. It's not that big of a deal." He says. Of course he wasn’t.  

"Well they will bring enough food to feed a small nation."I tell him. He groans in response nad I can’t help but laugh.

"Don't you dare tell them because I already got enough trouble with Sasha trying to hook me up with people." Ha! I wonder if he knows that Sasha is really trying to get me and him together.

"Old news man- Sasha is trying to get me to date half the town."

Marco dumps his dish in the sink and makes a look of discomfort, bringing his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"That's how I feel about it." I tell him. Sometimes I don’t want Sasha and Connie to be trying to get me together with someone.

"I don't get how the concept of not wanting to date right now is so hard to grasp."  

"They are in love and in love with the idea of love... Or whatever."

"That makes no sense but it sounds correct for them. I dunno.. It's just complicated for me right now..." Marco says and I can’t help but laugh again because complicated is the simplest way to describe life right now.

"What's so funny?" Marco asks me, settling back against the counter with Tuff perched on his shoulder like she isn’t a huge fluffy cat.

“Nothing. It’s just that ‘it’s complicated’ sums just about everything up.”

“Come on.. let’s go sit on the couch.” Marco says as he leads the way out of the kitchen. He sinks into the couch, with Tuff still sitting on him. “Thanks for the soup.” He adds.

“It’s no big deal...Are you tired..? I should go…?” I ask him. He is leaning his head against the couch with his eyes closed and I don’t want to bother him. I want him to want me to be around.

Jesus. I sound needy.

“You should not. Unless I’m boring you?” Marco says immediately, his head jerking off the couch.

“No- I just didn’t want to bother you. Or keep you from working on stuff.” I respond. This is awkward. What about him makes my mind melt into a pile of stupid.

Connie would say that my mind was already a pile of stupid but fuck Connie.

“I wasn’t working on anything all day really, just piano for a little bit.”

“You can play- still- if you want.”Him playing the piano....amazing. He loses himself in it.

“Piano is situated in my room, not feeling moving right now.”

“I see you take after Tuff.” I tease him as I sit on the couch as well.

“Nah, I’m just overall tired.”

“I worked until 5 am this morning- with Hitch passed out on me.” I tell him, yawning mid sentence, the couch makes me realize how tired I am. It also makes me realize how much I have to do.

“Yet you are still going to work all night tonight.. aren’t you.” Marco says, turning his head to look at me. I close my eyes so I can’t see him.

“You know me so well.” I murmur.

“Can’t we compromise that you sleep tonight because I’m sick?” He asks.

“That’s not very logical.” I say, using his own words against him.

“You coming to give me soup just to avoid work isn’t logical.” he retorts.

“Yeah yeah yeah.” I wave off his comment. A few moments of silence pass between us and I could fall asleep like this. On a couch. Next to Marco.

“Did you have any pets when you were younger?” He asks out of the blue.

“No. I’ve had a lot of friends and exes with them though.” I tell him. I get a few more moments of silence.

That apparently I have to break.

“Have you had Tuff since you were a kid?” I ask him.

“Uh-No… I got her two years ago, so better words would be she had me since she was a kid.” He says.

“Hitch would just die if she saw Tuff. She brings up getting a cat or a dog just about every other day.”

“But your allergies…”  Marco says. Like that would stop me. Eventually I’m going to cave for Hitch because she knows exactly how to con me into getting anything.

“I could deal. Hypoallergenic or some shit.”

“Please don’t get a hairless cat.” Marco says grimacing.

I laugh because hairless cats are weird but I can’t believe Marco isn’t all gung ho about all animals or whatever.  “I’m sure Tuff wouldn’t be prejudice against a hairless cat.”

“N-No. It’s just that hairless cats are kinda creepy- I mean they are sweet but it takes a while to get used to them-” He says, obviously struggling.

“I never thought you would be a cat racist Marco.” I cut him off, purposefully mocking him.

“I’m not even going to argue.” He resigns.

“So how many ‘Marco love points’ do I have right now.” I say. I swear I'm delirious from sleep deprivation because next thing I know I’m stretching my legs across the couch to rest them on Marcos lap.

“Dude.. I don’t even know. Does it even matter??”

“Hey. You established the whole point system. I better be beating Sasha is all I’m saying.” He brought this all on himself.

“I’ll let you know if Sasha is back in the lead.”

“Liar.” I say, nudging him in the stomach with my foot.

“If I forget about it, I’m sure you’ll remind me.”

“You bet your ass I will. But that’s because I’m annoying.”

“That you are-” Marco says yawning. His is making me yawn.

“Your yawning- Is making me yawn.”I fight to say through a few more yawns, my eyes watering slightly.

“We both need sleep.” Marco says. Yes. Yes we do.

“I think it’s called being an adult. I can go if you want to sleep.” I offer. I don’t want to go but part of being an adult is not commandeering peoples couches.

“Or we could just both pass out on my couch.” Marco says.

“That sounds like the best thing ever.” I tell him through another yawn and sink further into the couch.

“But, you should probably sleep in your own bed.” He says. No I shouldn’t. I should sleep next to you. I don’t tell him that though. Because that’s not being an adult is.

“Yeah.” I say, because he doesn’t want me here or needs to be alone or whatever. I don’t want to intrude so I slide off the couch, feeling more tired than when I sat down.

“Thanks again for the soup.”

“No problem.” I repeat. It’s not a big deal to take care of him.  We stand opposite each other and I want to hug him. But I don’t know. It’s Marco. I want to kiss him. But it’s Marco.

I don’t know.

“Bye.” I say after a moment because I don’t know what else to do.

Marco smiles at me and says, “See you.”

See you. Well that’s a goodbye for the books.

“Yup.” I agree. I leave and I never have felt more awkward in my life than descending the stairs of his apartment.

♫

December 11th

“Her checkup is next tuesday and she should be at AA until then. Dr. Moore is going to try and convince her to do the rehab program during the checkup but honestly if she doesn’t want to do it we can’t make her.” The nurse says. I turn and look out the window that showcases the parking lot, Hitch and mom are sitting in the car not seeming to want to acknowledge each other.

“I see what I can do about rehab.” I tell the nurse.  She looks doubtful, and I don’t blame her. Adelaide has been in her so many times over the last ten years it would be hard to believe that its a hospital and not something -anything- anymore exciting.

“Goodluck with that hun,” she says, patting me on the shoulder. Fun. This is going to be buckets of fucking fun.

My breath is visible when I walk outside, it’s freezing cold and all I want is a cigarette. My fingers itch for one and I can’t deal with any fucking lollipops right now.

“Listen, I’m dropping Htch off at my house and then I’m taking you home.” I tell mom when I get into the car.

“Jean-” She starts but I can’t listen to her crap.

“No. This is happening my way. Put on your seatbelt,” I snap. She surprising doesn’t protest and Hitch doesn’t make a sound. So far so good.

♫

“Jean, sweety, don’t leave me.” She whines from the couch. She looks terrible.

“I’m not leaving just yet. Just sit there and try not to move.” I tell her. I begin the long search beginning in the kitchen. It takes an hour to clear the whole house but there isn’t a drop of alcohol in sight. It’s sad that I have to take my moms car keys away from her, like she’s a child.

“I’m leaving now.” I say. She doesn’t look at me, apparently trying to help her makes me the bad guy.

“You can’t steal my daughter from me.” She says harshly. The fucking nerve she has-

“I can. And I will because you are being a shitty mother. You can’t take Hitch from me and if you try I will call social services.” I say. I’m keeping my shit together. I can keep my shit together.

“ We’ll see,” She responds.

I can’t deal with her. I can’t.

“You’ll never see her again if you don’t get your shit together,” I say before leaving. That’s a promise I will keep because fuck her, fuck her drinking and fuck everything she’s done to Hitch.

♫

December 12th

I need to decompress and the last thing I want to is hang out with anyone but Connie and Sasha would kill me if I don’t show up to date night and make brownies.

I take a shot of tequila. It’s just one night.

♫

The smell of brownies baking starts to make my stomach churn.

“Get out of the kitchen Jean- you look like you are going to puke. I can get them out of the oven.” Connie says, clapping me on the back.

“Thanks,” I mutter, exiting the kitchen.

Here's to another shot of tequila or two downed in the bathroom. Last night of insanity and then I’m giving it all up.

♫

December 13th

4am

I’m hot; covered in sweat. I don’t know where I am. Where the fuck am I?

The room is dark and my head is spinning.

Date night. Tequila. And-

I’m naked. Fuck. I’m naked.

I’m still a bit -  a lot- drunk? The world sways with me like some fucking sick roller coaster ride .

Josh? Jason...? Something with a J is laying next to me bed. I don’t even know if this is my bed. No it’s definitely not my bed.

I find my clothing. A shirt, pants, no socks and no underwear. Theres a coat and my shoes. It’s time to leave. Leaving....leaving...leaving.

I’m such a fuck up.

♫

1pm

The world is pounding when I wake up- well it’s just my head. I’m on my own foyer floor though so that’s an improvement.

Connie. I need help. My phone is way too bright.

-i fucked up-

My phone dings violently next to my head and I want to cry.

**-I’m heading over.-**

Thank god.


	12. From Afar Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are hangovers, tacos, and general pining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ao3 has been a huge bag of dicks to me and won't let me post my chapter.... Aka it's cuts off my writing mid sentence, mid chapter. Therefore until the problem is resolved I decided to post on tumblr and included the link below. I hope yall enjoy, I apologize sincerely for the delay. ❤

Link to part one: http://theunbloggable.tumblr.com/post/141178552568/chapter-12-from-afar-december-13th-2pm


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